Riptide

July 20, 2011

The taste of salt was in the air. Blue skies met blue seas far in the distance. I watch the waves crash on the rocks from the window. Unable to understand how the day could be so pretty, while my stomach was tied in knots, I willed the weather to change- to reflect my inner state of emotion. Nothing. Not even a cloud.
“Breathe.”
Silence was the only sound, accentuating the growing pit of anxiety. It had been one hundred and eighty days since I had seen him. One hundred and eighty one nights since the last time I felt his arms around me, or tasted the salt on his lips. One hundred eighty days, and five hours since I last heard him say my name. Countless seconds had passed, and in each second a minor eternity had been crucified. Minutes crept by, and hours dragged themselves through despondency. Days limped through the cycles of weeks that insisted on taking…

their….

time.
Months crawled by.
In other words, it had been too long.
He should be returning any day now. Excitement should be building, and I should be caught up in anticipation of his return, but I’m not. Instead this sense of uneasiness is building, and I am caught up in the anxiety of not knowing. I feel as if there is a lead weight in my intestines, and a cuff is around my heart. It’s squeezing tighter and tighter until I feel as if I would burst. I take a breath.

B
r
e
a
t
h
e
.
It’s a constant battle, between a full panic and a barely contained anxiety. I have to fight. I have to fight. I have to fight. I have to fight. I have to fight. I have to-

…………….

………………….

………………

……………….

……………..

…………

…………………………

……………..

…….

.

I had to get out of that house. I had to walk, barefoot, through the ocean tide. Feel the sand under my feet. The breeze whips around me, and the humidity quietly curls my hair while the sun beats down on my skin. For a moment, I feel peace. For a moment, I am serenity. I am calm.
A silhouette is blocking my otherwise uninhibited view of the sea. It is familiar. As the ship approaches, hope begins to rise. The ship is what took him away, the ship is what brings him back. The closer it gets, the lighter I feel, and I begin to run. I have to meet him on the dock. If I could, I would swim to him. Instead I run, and let my feet fly.
My feet hit the dock as the ship sets anchor. I can feel the grin start to spread across my face. I take a moment to soak in the sunshine on my face before making my way to the ship. I’m greeted by the crew, but I haven’t heard the one voice I long to hear…
Where is he?
I finally notice that not a single man has a smile on his face. I refuse to believe the lies my heart begins to pound out. Desperation takes over, and I pore through every man’s face, earnestly seeking those features I know so well. Earnestly seeking the man I love so well.
I can’t breathe.
R
u
n
n
i
n
g
from the dock that was my nightmare, past the house that was my haven, and down the shore that once promised me happiness, I find myself blind. Tears have made their way down my face and all I see is blue. I am drowning in blue. Breathe.
In the sky, clouds have gathered, and the heavens begin to rumble. The sun hides itself in shame, and the winds whip themselves into a frenzy. Standing at the edge, I allow the rains to soak me. The world is in mourning, and the blue seas turn black as is befitting. The heavy feeling returns and I name it.
“Dread.”
The choice looms before me, and I know my fate is sealed. I take a breath-
And then a step.
Walls of water on every side of me, I have never known such peace. The turmoil of the skies continues far above me, and waves mercilessly throw themselves onto the rocks above. All is quiet below. All I see is blue as my body is ripped out to sea.

-DeAnne Evans

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