───𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘.

Ocean [WilburSoot]

A tirade of the heart

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Life is kind of heavy, isn't it?"

His fingertips dance along the sand and he pauses once he hears you.

"are these your two a.m. thoughts?" he questioned with a tilt of his head 

"Yup. want to hear more?"

Wilbur's lips form a gentle smile that lets you know he's more than willing to listen. the tranquil ocean waves reach the shore and retreat in a constant cycle; your eyes never lose the movements and the faint moonlight that illuminates the beach makes everything in this very moment surreal.

and it feels foreign. to be able to feel so happy with everything, even when there's pressure and stress pushed to the back of your mind. to be able to feel free, even when the chains of life wrap around you and slowly tightening , suffocating you .

part of you doesn't want to continue because you're afraid of ruining it.

"tell me."

when he speaks, his voice reminds you of sanctuary. a place that's always there to welcome you with open arms. his words are soft spoken, drowned out by the water that barely hits your feet. he can never really tell what goes on in your mind, but he always knows that there's something. something that keeps you up in the late hours, something that makes you wonder why the stars shine, or why people make wishes when they see them even though they know they are dead.

why do people place hope in something that is no longer alive?

because no one really understands how life is or how the world works; everyone is told to live and do whatever makes them happy, but is it really that simple?

"when we're first born, everything's fine. the world is new in your eyes and everything is magical; the problem you have is losing that one toy that you've had since you were what, a week old? and you're afraid of leaving for your first day of school because you don't know who these kids are or how to talk to them-- maybe another kid sticks their tongue out at you and it's annoying. maybe they pull your hair and you go home, upset for hours because all the little things are a huge deal to the young ones."

"we aren't that old." he points out, the entertained expression never faltering for one second despite your endless thoughts and rambling . 

"we aren't," you agree, "but it feels like we are. we grow up and realize that life isn't that simple. it isn't learning how to color within the lines or learning the time tables. we're stuck between adolescence and adulthood and everyone's trying to figure out what's going on because no one ever really knows. no one knows and it's a step by step, day by day process because the truth is that we're all scared and unsure. and even if we know or have a feeling we might know, there's always the thought that things might screw up."

you don't even know where you're going with all this.

"there's always that chance." Wilbur responds. "there's always a chance that something could go wrong and sometimes that happens. but that's okay, isn't it? life isn't about getting it right the first time; there's always room for mistakes. even when things are scary or risky, we all have to push ourselves. and no matter what happens, the important thing is that you tried."

you sit in silence.

you've heard those words a thousand times before and they never lose their meaning, but sometimes, it's so damn hard to remember. because fear is the greatest enemy of all and it restrains you. because growing means learning. and it means messing up. it means failing.

"fall seven times, stand up eight."

the words are mumbled but he hears them loud and clear. you scoop up the sand and watch it slip between your fingers, oblivious to his stare. it isn't a concerned one nor a content one-- it's more of a curious, nostalgic look.

he doesn't say a word. he just hums in response.

but that's enough for you.

"how long?"

a puzzled look and the silent urge for you to explain.

"how long until this happens again? both of us sitting under the stars, staring out into the ocean when we should be studying or finishing that six page paper. how long until we get another break from life?"

and for once, Wilbur can't find the right answer. he sighs and stares at the sky because your musings hit too close to home-- not just for him, but for too many people. but life is not about finding the worst in things-- so he won't.

"i don't know. but let's enjoy the one we have now, okay?"

he gives that smile-- that certain one whenever someone's fallen again and all he has to do is pick them up and dust them off. when he looks away, you do not.

and the waves are louder now, though they're as calm as your heartbeat. the moonlight envelops his face and you wonder how he seems so free, so uncaring-- yet so concerned for everyone but still positive. because he knows the burdens of life, but he does not let them take him down.

because he realizes that life is a maze and it's alright to get lost. because in the end, everyone finds their way.

"are you content with your current life?"

he doesn't reply immediately, but the answer comes to mind right away.

he writes a list of all the important things in his life in the sand. the things he'll forever cherish. the things he hopes to never let go of or forget when he's fifty years older and returning to this special place.

his smile widens when he reads it. and he watches the waves rush towards it-- and part of him is afraid that it'll wash away, but it doesn't. it approaches quickly, but it never dares to touch.

"Of course , i'm happy with it  "

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

╔══♡══ღ═══════╗

𝕍𝕦𝕝𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕤

╚═══════ღ══♡══╝