i forgot what this felt like.
it’s been almost two years since i’ve stood this close to a body of water—close enough to hear it move, close enough to watch the surface hold the sky like it had nothing to prove.
and maybe that sounds dramatic, but something in me went quiet the second i got here.
for the first time in a long time, my chest didn’t feel tight. my thoughts weren’t clawing at each other. i wasn’t replaying old conversations, old wounds, old versions of myself i still grieve.
i was just... here.
breathing.
and maybe it makes sense. maybe the part of me made of tides and feeling and too much heart was always meant to find its way back here. maybe that’s what happens when a girl with too much water in her soul finally stands in front of something that understands how she moves.
i’ve spent so much time surviving on land—pretending i’m harder than i am, quieter than i am, less sensitive than i am.
but near the water, i don’t have to perform strength.
i just am.
calm.
clear.
okay.
and god... i didn’t realize how much i needed to feel okay.
for a moment, i wasn’t yearning for anyone.
i was just finding my way back to myself.
