Oceans.

I feel as it begins, as the tide pulls me in. I feel the water, churning around me, dark and stormy. My chest tightens, as my lungs fill with sea foam, with brilliant shades of white and pale green, their hues choking me slowly. My legs are like weights, and I begin sinking to the bottom of the sea, coughing and sputtering and gasping for air. I struggle to hold onto the world, or what’s left of it – the small sliver of light I can see shimmering above me. There’s nothing to grasp onto, nothing to anchor me. The waves crash, and so do I, I keep drowning like there is no bottom, simply unexplored ocean, taking me to depths I have never been to before. Last time, I was able to swim back out, just barely, still soaking and dripping, the water droplets remnants of my near-death. Not this time, though. I don’t know if I can pull back out, if I can bear to carry myself through the waters back to shore, while knowing that some day, I will face this sea again. If I survive, I know I’ll have to; I always do. And I know the oceans will be waiting.

format credit = destabilise