I went to the shore

I went to the shore. I watched the tides. They looked like surrender. Like letting go. Like the absence of resistance. They sounded like harmony. Like perpetuity. Like the constancy of change. I took those remaining pieces of you, the ones that lingered in my chest, in between my ribs, the ones I was never able to let go of, the ones that still sting every time I take a breath, the ones that trouble my blood every time I try to move forward. God they were heavy. I took them out and stared at the distant horizon. Perhaps the waves would carry them. Perhaps I would lose the sight of them. They would disperse on the surface of the wide sea, and finally disappear. I would finally be free. But I felt guilty. I felt like I was a murderer, sentencing to death those pieces of you that you had trusted me with. I held them close to my chest. I let the last rays of the day caress them. Perhaps they would get warmer. Perhaps they would get softer. But they were still cold. They seemed dead. They probably were. I took another breath and sighed as hard as I could, hoping it would somehow reach you. I listened closely. Nothing was heard, except for the gentle crash of the waves and the painful beating in my chest. I kissed those pieces of you goodbye, and gently let them fall into the water.

Ever since I was a little girl, writing has been my passion and my escape. I wanted a platform where this small voice - that usually dares only be heard by the notebook in the corner of my room - can reach out to the world. I have always been fascinated by this ability we have to turn a transient thought or feeling into something that could last forever and that could be communicated to any other member of our species who would stumble upon it. After all, we're one and the same, aren't we? Our hopes, dreams, fears, pain, joy are what make us who we are. This page is for you out there reading it, so I invite you to delve into this notebook as if it were your own. Welcome to my notebook. Many thanks to the creator of this page who made my dream come true.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *