Nightmares of the Ocean

His dreams were always the same. They always began along the shoreline. The tides had pulled the water back to where it crashed when it was ebb, leaving the beach wide and open and deserted. Salty wind blew around his hurting being, dark clouds whirling above his head as a forebode of an incoming storm. His bare feet were digging in the wet sand - because shoes seemed optional even in the dream world, and he absolutely hated the sensation of sand in his socks - while he stared out over the impetuous ocean, the waves roaring wild and tumultuous as they crashed and ended up whirling around his ankles. He had no idea how he had gotten there, or where he came from. All he ever knew was that his destination was the water, beyond the shore, beyond the waves, far beyond where he was able to stand and where he became too tired to swim and keep his head above the surface.

OR:

The loneliness is what hurt him the most. Will he be able to see that you are never really alone once you learn how to love yourself?