Thursday, December 06, 2012

Falling in love with him was like this:

Falling in love with him was like walking into the ocean.
I knew where I was going the moment my feet touched the sand. I was drawn by the mysterious and beautiful thing I had never touched. Still, I walked with caution: Who knows what things lie beneath the churning water?
I enjoyed the give and caress of the sand, but I did not let that urge me faster. I recalled too many times the feeling of sand beneath my soles. Sometimes a sandbox at a playground. Sometimes a volleyball court. Sometimes only hills and mounds and valleys of it. Never an ocean yet.
But slowly the song and sway of the waters pulled me closer. My toes sunk into sand now saturated with water.
I reveled in the coolness I found there. So much better than the scorch of each new step.
Then suddenly a wash of water over my toes. I jumped back. Afraid of this thing coming for me. It receded.
The hot sun and coarse sand now seemed unbearable to me. The ocean called me. It reached for me.
I walked forward. The water now licking at my ankles in waves. Oh, the feeling. . .
My eyes closed in wonder at the moment. I was not yet in the ocean. I was in the middle place where water meets earth. I could turn back now and escape with my clothes still dry. My skin still free of the salt-stain.
I opened my eyes at an approaching sound. A great surge was coming for me.

I walked into it. I gave myself over to the power of its arms. And when it pulled back from the beach, I went with the ocean. No longer just myself, but all wrapped up in this thing so much greater than me.

Falling in love with him was like walking into the ocean.
I have never been so caught up. I have never been so free.