✧: ✧･ﾟ———🌊———･ﾟ✧ :✧

The wind blows my hair, as if nudging me forward. I’m standing on the edge again.

A mile below, everything awaits: sorbet rocks streaked with swirls glide into the cascading, coruscating ocean; diamonds sparkle in every wave.

My grief and the waves are sisters: each forever return, always in unpredictable forms—wayfinding back into certain depths.

I remember standing at this same cliff, years ago, when the sea was tempestuous, crashing in time with my heart.

Looking downwards into the spiraling abyss, I remember the sea’s pull—the way the waves flooded into my thoughts. It’s tempting, isn’t it?

To slip into that infinite depth, to be consumed wholly.

Those rocks—the sea, I…

I do not know if I have the strength to walk away this time. Water thrashes in cacophonous and deafening shouts, ricocheting inside my head.

“Surrender,” the ocean commands.

The waves beckon. They urge me to answer the question that has lingered for a lifetime: do I jump?

But a voice chimes in, firm and resolute! The sun behind me yells, “No!” in a golden brilliance that illuminates and caresses the world.

The rocks are silent.

The waves start to flow more quietly now.

There drifts a slight peace, and a seagull flaps its wings overhead in beautifully carved movement.

Eventually, my heart steadies—the thumps match the seagull’s wings. I can finally breathe.

Slowly, lowering my gaze back to her, I assure the billowing sea that her visibility (lack thereof) could _never_ negate her existence; only, it would crown her onto a lower pedestal.

I’ve discovered that in this tenuous moment, though _she_ will always be there, I can look away.

So I turn around.

✧: ✧･ﾟ———☀️———･ﾟ✧ :✧