Mon amour | discontinued

part five

bella | spray paint
thalassophile- a lover of the sea

•••

Oceanography, the study of physical, chemical and biological features. Like everything the ocean has a history, something that explains the wrecks and the treasures that lie below the ocean surface. The history that explains the questions swirling around my head. The questions swirl like the currents that always lead back to shore, taking you on a adventure of your own. Scaring you into want to live.

Scientists say that drowning is the least painful way to die. I disagree. The water fills your lungs in a surreal way, choking you. The hands of death himself wrapping around your neck and taunting you. Your chest constricting as though a snake is wrapped around you.

There are a million metaphors i could use to explain this but none would give justice to the monster of the sea and death.

The monster that combines together in a blissful way that makes you believe in magic.

Like the sun and moon. The sun being the light and joy of so many and the moon being the dark that brings nightmares.

The beauty of the sea and the reality of death.

I sit at san cesse, pen in hand as i write my thoughts— whatever comes to mind. I guess its a habit, to write. I don't do it often and if you think i write about my feelings then your fucking dumb.

Sometimes i will come across something that interests me. Makes me wanna know more. Makes me wanna learn.

That's why right now i'm researching about the ocean or the sea, whatever you prefer to call it. I saw a video about it and now i can't get my mind away from the topic, my mind runs wild until it's put to rest by knowledge — i cant concentrate on anything else unless i finish this.

I've studied the stars, the rain, the ocean and so on. It's a comfort system. Knowledge is my comfort system.

The 'hangout' yesterday went alright, I mean Theo is cool, I don't think he has worked out that Amelie is gay but it's funny seeing him think he has a chance.

The guy was flirting with her and she was sending me the look the whole time. Fucking hilarious.

Ares insists that we aren't friends, give me 2 weeks is what I told him.

2 weeks.

I sit — caught up in my thoughts, Amelie's famous double choc chip brownies resting at the bottom of my bag.

A cup of white hot chocolate in decorated cups with French writing on the sides, I had white hot chocolate once and it became my comfort drink.

My nonna would always make me some white hot chocolate before school, I would stay at her house a lot.

The bell that hangs above the door dings and my head shifts up, two girls walk in. The whisper something to each other before making there way over in my direction. Fun.

They stop in front of my table and the tallest one begins talking, "salut fille, nous avons pensé que tu étais vraiment jolie alors nous voulions vous présenter—"

"Sorry I don't speak much French" I say, interrupting her talking and giving a tight-lipped smile, I check them out and my god they are hot.