The ocean will remain.

Reality and dreams, nothing is ever as it seems.

I don’t know what lies beyond the horizon. I’m closing my eyes, imagining all the possibilities. Calculating every choice and every decision I could make. It’s overwhelming… but I’m still breathing. I’m alive.

When the dark clouds of misery wash over me, and I feel the rain soak into my skin, I’ll keep breathing. There is no other way anymore. These clouds will follow me forever, as they already have. My hands are up to the sky, I collect every drop that finds me. Could it be that every drop I catch is another moment I’ve lived through? And so they fuse into my clothes and into my skin and I’m one with the rain. I can’t run or hide from it.

I felt it all over me, there’s no denying it.

Staring into the unknown of what I thought could be known isn’t a misstep. I was meant to step into the unknown. I’ve planted another footstep in the sand that is my path along the horizon. I can look back and reflect on every step that got me to where I’m at now. There are no regrets.

Sometimes there’s jagged rocks beneath my feet in the sand, and sometimes I bleed. It hurts a lot, but I know the ocean will come wash the sorrow from off my skin in time. My feet will heal. There might be a scar left behind, but I don’t look at it in anger. It’s a reminder to watch where I step and be more careful with the fragile tender parts of myself. The soles of my feet can withstand so much, but a sharp jolt into the bottom of them can make me fall down. But I will always rise back up and keep walking.

I asked my mom––who lives in the ocean now––what I should do. I did my best to listen. It’s difficult to hear sometimes because I’m not used to communicating with her this way. I’m hoping in time I’ll be able to hear what she has to say more clearly. I think she’s doing her best to get through to me, too. I know she’s there though, and that brings me enough comfort. This is my new normal with her. The energy the ocean brings to me is indescribable. Now that she’s part of it, I feel the ocean breeze embrace me and anchor me down so I don’t float away. I will listen better next time. I think she was trying to tell me what this was all about, but I wasn’t listening closely enough.

It’s incredible how much can happen in such a short period of time. You can feel yourself morphing and changing into something else. You pray for the strength to know better. You pray for the wisdom to know what direction to go. There are energies that guide me in this life. And like my mother trying to communicate with me through the ocean waves, these energies speak to me, and I speak back. I don’t always listen to them though. I try to reason with my heart and make more sense of that. There’s energies that live around us, and there’s your brain and your heart. There’s so many things to channel, so much information to accept and so much to listen to- some of it is going to get caught in the crossfire.

I don’t know if fate is real. I won’t lose hope in it though. Perhaps I misheard the energies that spoke to me about my fate. I wanted so badly for my heart to guide me this time. But my heart can be blind at times. My mind grew weary. I didn’t want to listen to that, either. I turned away from the energies and interpreted them and intertwined them the way I wanted my fate to be. But I can’t control my fate, none of us can. We walk this path in the sands of our beach, and sometimes a hard wave comes crashing in and throws some debris in your path. Suddenly you have to find your way around it, and sometimes you don’t make it back in the same path because now there’s rocks and slippery seaweed, so you have to walk besides it. Anything can change in a moment- even if we wish and pray so hard for it to not change.

It felt so perfect, but nobody can hold onto perfection forever.

I’m only human. We’re only human. We can’t be every single star in the sky for each other. We try so hard to be the galaxy and the answers for one another. We feel the love that makes us fly, we hold on so tightly that we sometimes miss what’s coming between us on our paths. Our gaze falls upon one another and you’re too consumed in that moment to look at what’s happening around you. Sometimes it’s just too late and we fall from our starry skies, and our hands can’t hold on tight enough in the gravitational pull.

We are only human. We will fall. But we must keep trying to rise each time and look to the skies again, and again, and again.

At least I can say I tried.
I can say I lived.
I can say I loved.


I hope you can, too.




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These are the musings of a 32 y/o dreamer, wisher and doer. All my posts are authentic; I write what's in my heart.

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