an ocean heart

Sometimes, I cling to you, or the thought of you, like the horizon clings to the sky and sea. Like that, I’m in between you and myself, for you are my sky and I am my sea. I am torn between the sky and the sea, always. The skies pull me higher, offering me a chance and the ocean pulls me deeper, keeping me safe. But safe from what? What’s the catch? For there is always a catch. The skies pull me higher and offer me a chance of something better, but only at the cost of risking my safety and facing my fear of heights. And the ocean pulls me deeper and deeper and keeps me safe from the fall that will eventually occur, but at the same time the line between keeping me safe and keeping me away from happiness is blurred. Why remain safe, in the depths of the ocean just because I will eventually fall? Everyone is ought to fall at some point but no one is ought to remain in the depths, for, let’s face it, the living rise after the fall and the dead do not. Have I done this to myself? Have I subdued the life in me by keeping myself safe and has the safety I have known been no safety at all? We are ought to risk our safety and climb as high as we can and remain in the heights as long as it is possible and eventually fall. The difference between the living and the dead is that the living rise from the depths, eventually, but the dead remain in the depths, forever. I am torn between the sky and the sea. I am neither alive or dead, I am in between.

I am torn between you and me. You could be my way out. But, at least for now, I am my way deeper in. Sometimes I cling to you, sometimes I cling to me. When will I cling to happiness? Or will I always cling to the depths?