Salt

I was once told by a friend and recently reminded that "Sometimes what holds you together and tears you apart are the same thing".

It was like a tight slap in the face. A tight slap that just appears out of nowhere as soon as you turn your head; a slap before which the wind doesn't touch your face to warn you about the fall from the cliff of self-esteem.

I was floating in a sea of emotions, watching the dance of the crystals on the water's surface. The day had been tiring but very constructive, as I saw it and the sea was where I decided to retire for the night. The crystals danced with the current, intoxicated by the touch of moonlight. The sky was clear- like my heart. I liked clouds but I was grateful for this clarity because I loved the presence of the moon to make my picture perfect. Absorbed in the moment as if I belonged to canvas, without thinking, I let go and then it hit me with a huge splash. Yes, the icy water rose and slapped me. I whirled and hit the ground face down.

I thought it would carry me away and I would lose the parts of me that it hadn't already claimed. I waited for the wrath with eyes closed because I was afraid the sight would be too agonizing. The water receded, leaving me with a bleeding nose, sodden in self-loath. I tried gathering what was mine, the bits of self-esteem strewn across the surface among the shreds of glass that looked no more like crystals. I groped around, making frantic, vain attempts to grab on to them before the salt burned them and they disappeared. I stopped as I smelled my blood, which was no more a surprise than the consequence of trusting the angry sea.

I now understood that the sky was clear in fear of the rising waves, to make way for the storm; not to honour my wish.