She whispered this each time the lazy miniature tide pushed the bubbly salty water across her bare toes.
The rain was good for hiding heavy downpours of sadness, but only the ocean, when she was fully submerged, could steal her salty tears and meld them with the cool brine of the sea.
No one can see you crying in the ocean.
Her time with the waves was shorter than she wished,
She had visions of once going to kiss the shoreline with her anxious and excited toes every morning.
That was never to be though, as reality demanded she do other things that required more than a bathing suit. More than a towel. More than the desire to escape the human realities, and become a fish.
In the ocean, no one could call her on the phone. In the ocean, no one could… well, they could bully her, and they did, but far fewer than on the shore.
She wanted to swim in silence. She wanted to swim in peace.
She wanted no one poking her or demanding her attention or telling her she was doing something wrong.
She just wanted to swim. She knew that swimming would clear her mind, and she’d forget how utterly lonely and depressed she was. She missed that silence.
But her bathing suit was stuffed inside a manmade handbag, amongst pens and papers and other forgotten things. It would call out to her, softly, just on the edge of her mind, “Do you…remember…me? Do you remember US? Do you think of me and miss me?” “Yes, always and always,” she would whisper back.
The water was before her eyes, yet she was a million million heartbeats from the shore. At least it seemed that way. She was jealous of those she could see out in the water. It broke her heart. She hated not sharing that time with those beautifully wet strangers.
Maybe tomorrow. Maybe not. Maybe in a fleet of Tuesdays, when the sun didn’t burn quite so brightly, and the agoraphobia didn’t vex and overwhelm her, and the bathing suit was too annoyed at being forgotten for so long, she would don the suit and jump in the drink.
To help. To Cleanse. To start anew. Maybe tomorrow, she could swim again.