I am surrounded by a massive sea of depression and loss.
the water reminds me of the pain I felt when he left.
I wish I could go back and never wander into the water in the first place.
My love for him was an illusion...
an illusion such as the way the beautiful baby blue waves quietly crash into the plush white sand
but as you venture deeper into the seemingly gentle waves
the mass of 'water' becomes deeper, darker, and more obscure.
Making you feel slightly unsafe and hesitant to venture further.
But you continue on anyways, hopeful that youll ultimately reach a beautiful paradise
a paradise that you created in your head and imagined so vividly.
Thus you swim onward, your body beginning to ache and fatigue overcoming your senses
but you travel with a smile on your face and hope in your heart
you travel for miles, through the most violent winds and chilling rains all for the purpose of finding the paradise
the only thing that keeps you moving are the brief moments of tranquility and utter happiness that you collect in the silent ocean.
when suddenly your hope is violently hijacked
the hijacker, ironically enough, turns out to be the one person you trusted to safeguard the hope.
You're confused, perplexed, unsure of what to do next as you float adrift in the frosty water
This is a moment of reflection.
Was the journey really worth it? Should you now battle onward towards your paradise? Or should you attempt to reach a new version of paradise to find satisfaction?
He was my paradise..
I voyaged wide and far to reach him, but my journey was cut short in the moment that his life was cut short.
I miss him dearly, although I never experienced his greatness to its fullest potential.
I wish that I could've reached his paradise, because now I cannot imagine any better.
