It’s been a while since I have posted anything, so I thought I would reappear to present a story I had planned on telling about a month ago. I have a few things in the works, including the second tale in the Rainfall series, and a new section of this site devoted to a sort of personal blog/ photo gallery.
Apologies to anyone awaiting the next entry in Rainfall (do you even exist?,) but it just isn’t ready yet- mainly because I am not quite prepared to finish telling it yet. In an effort to fully illustrate my sincerity, I will post the first bit of what I have done- though it is unfinished, and I have yet to come anywhere near the realm of satisfied when I look at it.
But first, the story.
I don’t remember exactly how old I was, but I would guess somewhere between six and ten. I was invited to a water park, and I was a kid. Guess where I spent my day.
Skipping the obvious merrymaking therein, at one point, I decided to do something not so intelligent. I went on a water slide.
Yes, it was a water park.
Of course, it does stand to reason that one would spend the day on water slides.
Moving on from (read: skipping) the desired explanation, I followed my friends up many flights of stairs to- what turned out to be- quite the thrilling ride back down. Well, until the end.
What awaited me upon exiting the tube, I had already seen before climbing the stairway, but for some reason had not linked the two together. For some reason, I had not realized that the tube would drop me into the deepest pool of water I had ever seen, let alone fallen into. I had also somehow forgotten the importance of being earnest… wait, no, that is not what I meant to say…
I had forgotten the eat my Wheaties?
I had forgotten… my two… front… teeth…?
Oh, that’s right.
I had forgotten how important it was to be able to swim when one is being propelled into a potentially deadly vat of liquid CHILD DEATH.
Though- I assure you- it sounds worse than it is.
Come on, I mean it.
Joking aside, I realized only after I was pulled from the water, that I had made a mistake.
I’m getting ahead of myself though.
As I went down that slide, you would figure a wave of fear would have overtaken me, but it did not. Not when I hit the water. Not even when I sank to the bottom of that silent blue, such that my toes touched that which, surely very few, had ever touched. Fear was absent that day.
Never for a single moment did I feel that I was in danger. It was not that I felt invincible, or that I knew someone would save me. In truth, I had not considered for a single moment that I could fail in my attempt to reach the surface. And, not for a single moment, did I give up in my attempt to reach the surface on my own. Not when I realized how slow going it was, and not when I was wrenched from my pursuit and back into the light of day. Not when I was told “don’t go on these rides if you can’t swim” by the life guard, and not when I felt like crying after feeling the sheer malevolence in his glare. Not when I left the park that day, and not when I went to sleep that night. To this day, I have never ceased in my attempt to surface under my own power, and this is what- in literature- is called hamartia (wikipedia definition.)
More than an inability to give up, which can be a good thing, I suffer from an inherent ignorance of my own limits. I rarely ask for help, and even when I do it is rarely with an entire task. Using this reminiscence as an example, I would ask that a tow rope be left in the pool, rather than ask to be rescued.
I can’t really remember why this story popped into my brain or if I was going anywhere with it when I planned this post, but I suppose you could learn a lesson from my horrible example:
Don’t be afraid to ask for help if you are drowning, because only the worst people would think less of you for it.
It is far more likely that they will grow cross at you for having almost drowned in the first place, and on their watch at that.
I know very well how difficult a mantra like this can be to live by, especially when you think that perhaps you do not deserve help, and I’m not going to sit here and tell you that you do deserve it. Only you can decide that, just as only you can decide if it is possible for you to be happy. I struggle with these questions every day, and I don’t see that struggle ending any time soon (though, does it not appear- within a storm- that said storm will never end?)
Under the water, I certainly felt that it was endless, and I didn’t fear it because I felt I knew it well. I was at peace within its stillness, but I have since learned that there is a peace beyond it as well.
My back arched as his hand caressed the bare, sun touched, skin.
His chin tickled my chest as he slowly inched his way up to me, frolicking in the gentle scent of the ocean that seemed to linger, becoming an aromatic perfume.
My elbows dug into the sand as he reached my lips. He teased them with a playful smile, tickling them from a scant distance.
As I eyed him defiantly, he bit into them, freeing a deep sigh from somewhere within.
The tide rolled in as he embraced me and tangled his lips in mine.
So, to wrap this one up, I thank you for visiting and especially for making it this far.
Are you awaiting the next chapter of Rainfall? Have you ever almost drowned? Do you hate water? Are you curious about the type of images that will be found in the new section of the site? Wanna know why Wet Sand is taking so looooooong? Are you curious about what I had for breakfast this morning? (Here’s a hint: it wasn’t a tangelooooo.) Tell me all about it in the comments below, through email, or twitter, because… it would just be nice to hear from you ;).
Until next time:
When life gave me lemons, I threw them out the d*** window because too much citrus makes my mouth sore…
anchoritehope | email@example.com | @tgki_hope