Look At Me When I Look At You ⚣ Victuri

/ Dream On /

Sunday
7:30 p.m.

My wet suit clung to my burning hot skin as the sun reflected off of the water my board floated on.

It was a windy, chaotic evening in Crescent Shores, California as I surfed wave after wave after wave.

My platinum hair was glued to my forehead, saturated by the familiar salt.

But god, I felt alive.

I always felt alive out here.

The ocean.

With all of its ripples, deep waters, powerful waves, and unknown depths.

The ocean is not the land or the sun or the rain...

The ocean, in my opinion,

Is a separate element.

It's own separate earth.

And I love this earth.

I love every single ripple, wave, and creature.

But....

I've never really understood why I love it so much.

Or if it's even possible to love something this much.

As a kid, my dad used to tell me that he married a mermaid and they fell in love.

And that's when they had me, their only child.

He would tell me that I had saltwater running through my veins and that I was secretly a merman.

My adolescent face lighting up at the possibility.

And so every time someone would come up to me and ask why my hair was grey.

Even though it was and always has been platinum.

I would always respond with.....

"It's because I'm a merman."

I believed that for a long time.

I believed it even when the kids would laugh at me.

Even when the teachers would tell me that daydreaming is always the cause of failed report cards.