(WP) For the Love of the Water

(I was torn between the ocean and heights. So I decided to choose the ocean! I hope you all like it!)

Sometimes I wonder if I would be more at home on the water than on land. Something about water soothes me, the waves caressing the shore a lullaby that sent me off to sleep every night. It’s the first thing I see when I wake up, and the last thing I see before I go to bed. Its presence is constant but ever-changing, and despite knowing just how brutal it can be, I can’t not love it. Rivers, lakes, the ocean that surrounds the planet; all of it has been as necessary to me as oxygen and food. But the ocean holds a special place in my heart; if I could, I’d never leave it.

Sometimes I like to dream about how I’m a pirate, conquering the seas and chasing the elusive promise of treasure. But for now, I’ll just have to be okay with getting a degree in marine biology. I rise from my bed and bite back a yawn, changing out of my pajamas to a pair of black basketball shorts and a plain black tank top. I walk to the window, feeling that familiar call as I gaze out toward the beach. If I hadn’t slept in this morning, I would’ve gone surfing. I’ve always been a morning person, but since learning how to work with the water, I’ve often rose with the dawn, eager to get my fix before I had to start my day.

The other side of the bed is cold; Teddy must have gone to work already. I walk down the stairs and jog through the kitchen, grabbing a granola bar on the way out. I slip my flip-flops on and hop in the car, making sure to stop for iced coffee on the way to the university; a morning person I may be, but I also need fuel. Armed with caffeine and a breakfast sandwich, I set it on the passenger’s seat and park hastily, devouring my breakfast in a few quick bites. Wiping my mouth with a napkin and putting on makeup, I grab my bag out of the backseat and sling it over my shoulder, walking inside of the school.

My first class, Earth Science, hasn’t started yet, and I take a seat by the window, gazing out toward the ocean as if compelled. I can’t help it; whenever I’m outside, my first instinct is to find the nearest body of water; it just makes me feel safe.

My parents used to despair over it, this mysterious pull to the water; more often not, I was scheming to steal away from whatever I was doing, sleepwalking through life in order to answer the call of it. No one has ever understood it, but that’s all right. I barely do myself. But if it went away, I wouldn’t be who I am. I couldn’t imagine my life, my heart and soul, without it; it’s part of my deepest foundations.

And I wouldn’t change it for anything.