lately i feel as though i am standing on an empty pier, watching my ship sail away.
the wind is blowing against me, pushing me back. i am out of breath from running to catch my boat, panting, bent over with my hands on my legs. my throat hurts from yelling, screaming at the captain to wait, to stop, stop stop. not to leave without me. frantic, racing, desperate. but now i am silent. resigned. the only sound is the pounding of the waves, slapping against the pier and the jagged rocks closer to the beach. the roar of the water creates a deafening sort of silence.
what was on that ship? a one-way ticket back to life before my breakdown. my expectations. my wishes. my dreams from the past. a speedy recovery. the right answer. the perfect solution. so many days and weeks and months of anticipation for my “recovery.”
gone. slipping away, sailing off towards the horizon. close enough to still see but too far to still catch it. like the sun setting, slowly sinking down and then vanishing from sight.
did i miss the boat? or did the boat miss me? it was a ride i could never take to a place that doesn’t exist. the past is gone. my life is now. there is no going backwards, only forward.
it is twilight on the pier. an in-between time. it isn’t day and it isn’t night. i look out towards the horizon and can’t see the ship anymore. it is gone – it went down with the sun. i am left alone with the darkness falling around me. i look up and see a few stars twinkling in the lilac sky. i breathe a deep, full breath as i gaze upwards. here is where i am. recovery is now.
my ship has sailed and my journey continues. i will find a new current. i will build a new boat.