South Carolina feels softer, more genteel than North Carolina. Little triangle state overshadowed on the map by its northern sister, wedged in next to Georgia.
South Carolina brings up the words barrier islands for me. I'm a barrier island sometimes. Standing between someone who needs a champion and the person or situation they need defending from. Waves rush up against me and I break them before they hit the mainland. I can feel my fists go up.
South Carolina is the south, too, and that always makes me panic a little bit inside. I can't land Georgia's sins on South Carolina's back, but it's hard to separate them.
There is nothing southern about me. There is plenty Texan, but south? No. And I can feel my fists go up.
I can't. There's a whole section of the country I can't make eye contact with across the table. South Carolina stands behind Georgia, cutting his meat.
Have I been to South Carolina? Hoo boy no. Fists.