(Photo courtesy: Pinterest)
Between the rows of tangled weeds, she floats.
It was a clear night, quiet, with the occasional chirp of crickets among the bushes and the slow gurgle of the creek, on which she floats, and which seemed to be flowing towards somewhere unexpected. She loved the water, loved the depth and serenity that it represented, but she was anxious about where it was leading her to.
And her anxiety wasn’t helping her with the fact that she couldn’t move. Physically, she was fine. But pieces of her were broken inside. Whether it was her soul, or her thoughts, or her emotions, she didn’t know, but she knew that there was very little left inside of her to move. She felt empty. She WAS empty. Just an empty vessel floating along in the water with nothing to hold onto.
She had let herself go, time and time again, and she knew it. The same mistakes, the same actions, and with all the same results. She gave away too much of herself, at every moment in her life, and that had made her happy and whole. And when she had started to tear up on the inside, she held back what was left, before she fell into the water.
But she had no regrets. She loved every moment of it, despite knowing that she was breaking her soul into pieces. She loved it. She needed it. It was, after all, what makes a person. The intimacies of life were something that was inevitable to everyone, and along with it, comes the fall. But nobody knows exactly what happens after the fall, and she was about to find out.
She felt a slight tingling, a smooth sensation coming from her left foot. She couldn’t move her head forward to see what was happening. Suddenly, there was a shift in the current and her head swayed for a moment. She caught sight of her foot and saw that it was burning with a bright yellow colour. It seemed to be breaking, or rather, shattering into dust, while the wind sweeped it away into the sky. With her head facing upward again, she could now feel her other leg, her hands and the tip of her hair just breaking, and floating away above her.
She was literally turning into nothing. And that terrified her. But, what could she do? All she could hope was for the end of her journey to be meaningful, if there was an end. So, with a somewhat meagre peace of mind, she kept floating along, in a slow, dreamy pace.
What would she find on the other side? She hoped it would be someone, or something, that would fix her back up, and make her whole again. It was always a possibility, she thought, smiling to herself. The water was working its magic on her, lulling her into a state of peace, while burning away bits and pieces of her.
When she felt her chest turning warm, she opened her eyes, and in that moment, she knew she was there.
It was all going to be okay.
P.S: This is not a reference to anything suicidal or death. It was only after I was done proof-reading this post that I realized it may sound that way for some of you reading it. Let me tell you that it isn’t, okay? This post is about how you sometimes tend to lose yourself to people, and you end up forgetting who you actually are, till a certain someone or something reminds you of, well, you. That’s all. What with words like “fall” and “water” and “turning into nothing”, I was a teensy bit concerned about what I was putting forth. Therefore, my warning.
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