Water laps between my chin and neck, each wave rhythmically colliding into me in tune with the beat of my heart. I feel a raindrop on my forehead, and for a moment I intake the calm before the storm. A breeze gently shakes the trees, the last bit of sunlight slips behind the clouds to the west. The birds go silent. It’s just me and the gentle water, the air and the clouds and the tension. Then more raindrops, and soon enough, I am wholly drenched with no escape from water. I allow it, slipping farther into the lake and beginning a steady groove of backstrokes, closing my eyes and letting the rain finish the job of soaking me.

My throat clenches, and I can’t help my tears from adding to the deluge. Purity, dirt, and salt come at me from different angles. I will miss the storm of emotions I have allowed myself to feel in the place. Screaming and aching and longing and love, when I had nowhere else to express these things so freely. My last time at the lake.