Thalassophobia

Where the clouds are swimming?

Minho

It was a warm morning, you were happy, and so was I.

You took my hands and told me:

"_Minho, I think you want to know, why my father is never among us."

So, you got up, took my hand, and lead me to the port, so close to the waves that scared you so much. You crossed the fishers' market, pulling me into diverse alleys and streets. You sneaked us under colored stands, and got out, leaving behind us the smells of the sea that faded away, being replaced with the scent of thousands of flowers. You took me near the graveyard, in a far corner.

You got close to a grave filled with plants. With your hand, you swiped away the dead leaves and you started to speak.

"_I was three years old I think, I don't really remember. My father was really happy that day, we were about to enter the year 2000 and that meant a new era. My father and his friends were supposed to meet in a bar that same evening, so right after wishing us a happy new year, he left. And never came back. I already knew how to do a lot of things at my age, and I knew I needed my dad. So I wanted to join him. They played a lot of stupid games that night, and I hid myself in one of the boat's tanks, so I could watch them. Suddenly my father stood up, and everything is blurry after that. I remember hearing him say something like "You will see if I'm not the best sailor." I remember the waves, the wind, the screams, and nothing else. I woke up the next morning, my mother telling me my dad died at sea."

That day I understood. I understood that you were also in that boat this evening, that you too you've seen death in the eyes. Your brain simply wanted to protect you.

That day I held you in my arms stronger than ever.

And that night, we didn't go to the beach, no. I took you to my home and I loved you all night long.