I suddenly have a fierce longing to see the sea. I think it’s a wish to be reminded of just how small I am, and how fleeting the hours I stay awake to avoid dreams really are.
Because the sea is constant, solid motion, shushing across sands which have traveled immeasurable miles before settling there beneath my feet.
And the horizon is unreachable, and that somehow gives me peace.
The air is full of the smell of unshed tears, and somehow that makes me believe once again in the beauty of broken hearts and sorrow. It makes me believe in my own beauty once again. Because at the sea, I can believe that gray is just a promise of sunrise, that cold wet sand is just a reminder that our lives leave footprints even after the tide has washed us away, and that the waves are just visible evidence of the truth that the earth breathes beauty into every moment of our days.
I want to see the sea.
I want to breathe in the air which I think might have always been meant for me.
I want to see the blue, and if it makes me think of the clear blue of the eyes which somehow add more magic to his face, at least I will already be accustomed to the sting of salt on my cheeks.
I want to feel my heart beating to the rhythm of the waves.
I want to dance along the beach, and I want the sea to see me.