We are here now.

0.7: The Sea.

He looks so dejected.

It makes me want to give up on him, before even reaching out.

But I can't let him die. Not before he sees the world that he has been dreaming of with open eyes. Not before he becomes the person he is supposed to grow into. Not before he goes to all those places, where he belongs, from the endless pictures on the walls of his room, to the non-existent ones in his dreams. 

I can't let him die before he sets me free.

Do you know the way to the sea?\

The spark of recognition that lights up his almost dead eyes, is synchronous with that of hope in mine. As he walks to me in slow strides, I feel my weak heart banging against my chest so loud, I fear even he can hear it. 

The warmth of his hand burns against my ice old one. But neither of us flinch. And I hope we can remain like this for a long time. At least, till our temperatures are even, as the line separating thin air of the exosphere from vacuum.

Let's go.

I had abandoned him, but he embraces me. Like a prodigal son, I let him lead me on, in belief that he will rebuild what has fallen apart. In hope that he will let his colors diffuse into my monochromatic soul.

The world denied me oblivion. I am glad it did, since memories are the privilege. Every little abandoned corner; ever turn of the snow-clad road; the little worn out houses; battered, lifeless cars; the leafless trees;

Remind me, that I was here. 

Then the feelings come flooding my brain. The light caress of the wind. The soothing fragrance of the neighborhood. The silenced calls of nocturnal creatures. Everything so vivid in my head, I might as well believe that nothing had happened after the last time I had walked this path. Like, I just woke up today and found, I'm still walking. I want to believe I was never gone. 

I wish the seasons would swallow up everything that happened in between then and now. But even then, it will never be the same. 

Thoughts evaporate into the thin winter air, as I begin to run. Initially pulled forward by my companion, but eventually breaking into a spontaneous sprint. The thing about motion; it makes you forget your surroundings until the only thing you can remember is yourself.

And I don't even register that we're here, until I hear the roar of the wild waters. He kicks off his shoes. I mimic his action without any hesitation. My wet clothes, the cold and the weak, broken man that lies underneath my temporary victory; none of them matter now.

What matters is the spirited boy next to me, and that our hands remain linked as they are, until they're evenly warm.

It feels like we are nucleating the universe, as we stand here. Maybe we are. We are the center of our universe. I know that the answer lies outstretched before us, in the boundless blue. But we are still vulnerable, not ready for facing the answer. 

So we wait. 

There's still time till we dive.

For now, we just watch the lit up sky,

Painting its replica on the rising tide.

The frayed edges of the same wet fabric

Teasingly lashing at our feet,

Threatening to swallow us with every swell.

For now, we observe the world in the clarity of night,

Before it is tainted by the break of dawn.

Before the sea of stars,

Turns into the sea of uncertainty.