There is this thing we do to each other. And I’ve never been quite sure why. Maybe it’s just a thing. Maybe it’s just something we do, like a mental crutch, and we use this because we either lack the things to say or the ability to say them. But meanwhile, beneath the crutch are feelings and thoughts that remain trapped.
I see me this way sometimes, stuck, but yet, I have so many things I want to tell you. I rehearsed them in my mind a thousand times, but yet, when the moment comes, I lose my thoughts and suddenly, the time is gone and I find myself wishing I said the things I never had the chance to say.
I have this dream sometimes of me swimming below the water. I am swimming upwards to the surface so I can breathe. And I try and I try and I swim and I swim, but the surface seems to be pulling away.
I can see it though, the surface I mean.
I can see the sunlight glimmering on the top of the water like a big, glowing orb of white light- and the blue around me, the water, the depths of where I am, all of the things around me are the color of the deep blue sea, which is beautiful in some regard, but still, I need to make my way to the surface
(so I can breathe . . .)
Kicking my legs, I turn my face upwards to the surface; my eyes are wide open and my face takes on the shade of blue.
I feel this symbolizes me in a perfect way.
This is me wondering if I will ever make it to the top.
This is me wondering if I will ever be able to write all the things within my head.
This is me wondering if I will ever be able to tell you all the things I wish I could say.
And this is me swimming through life, relentlessly, kicking my way up no matter how far the surface is because I know I can’t quit.
There is this thing we do to find the surface, so to speak. There is a way we cope and a way we compromise.
There is this thing we do just to survive and to feel “Okay,” or comfortable. But in our efforts to become more comfortable, we find us settled in our discomfort because, “At least this way, we know what to expect.”
I know that tomorrow is on its way.
I know that sometimes, tomorrow comes without warning.
I also know that yesterday is gone.
All I have is now.
All I have is this moment to find my way to the surface, to kick my legs as best as I can, to try, to swim to the surface no matter what stops me so that when I finally reach the top, I can explode from beneath ocean and splash into this world and “HUUUUUHHHHHH,” catch my breath.
There is this thing we do with each other. And I’ve never been quit sure why. Maybe it’s just a thing. Maybe it’s just something we do
(until we reach the surface . . .)