In a sea of love

I know you got used to be unreachable, shielded, devoid of cravings. To not be you with them, everyone, and I plainly understand, really, since I truly came to know you I never struggled much to grasp your idea, for I’ve scratched the walls of that same emotional place too, for a not so short while, and I too became it, partially, like you. You told that to me, through words and maybe more even silences. Yet I found myself meeting you. Were you the one to let me close? Yes. But it was like we, slowly, have made a progress that wasn’t ever intentional, but in time it became a sort of compulsion, open to being called a somewhat special interaction. It’s just a process of absorption, the velocity with which it occurs, irrelevant, intemporal if it feels right, as the tendency is to ever grow and never decay.

Hmmm… thoughts are riveting, yours specially, and they’re maybe too pungent for your own sake, so that you may even emanate a hue of bitterness, unreadiness to fully embrace what’s offered. I was told the same at moments. “Don’t think of it”, “You must forget it!”, “Let it be”… I’ve heard such things and lived with them and with my inability to do as I should. Life, the ocean, its depth, it was the first ambient in which I’ve found an other peace and place capable to impel me into clear and fresh introspection, eventual clarification. Yet, no, there’s this almost tidal effect inherent to every spot we come to be on this earth. At the same place, the same type of thoughts tend to emerge and reemerge, always. I got familiarized with that too, as I seemed to simply engulf that state because I saw no great escape, and there actually was none at the time. I can see that.

It was as if I, by touching and staring at it, the clouded waters and sand, I obtained another dimension, grew a little vaster and dismal, for there’s never just sweetness and nothing else, there’s always all, ready to be taken in and felt. Well, when next to infinitude, you’ll either feel too little or infinite, and if you come to realise that you soar when there, then you should be there more often, in touch with you and all the rest that is waiting to become you too.

So, between us, think of me as you know how to, as if I’m the ocean, random, rebellious, shy, shiny or misty, undescribable. I’m all that you need to see for as long as you imagine me limitless. We expound each other because we’re too close, however we seem to not mind any of the flaws found. The habit was instated and inevitably along with it comes the need to know more and know better, something else is built amidst this. Between us, sea and seabed, there’s no tangible shyness to be unearthed, for all those foamy fears and uncertainties, they can’t endure this crashing of waves that’s so troubled, they are volatile next to something so alive as us. We make others believe in an illusion we are not, funny this, apparently piddly but so not.

It flows this way, intimacy is frequently found between those who have learned not to trust, it is ethereal and then eternal. It compromises us in many ways, it’s a weak spot, life’s erosive force acting upon us. We can’t avoid searching for something else, always, finding others and trying to enjoy them. You are strong, definitely, but there was a point when this stopped being occasional and subtly became desired, maybe even obligatory. And do you mind being sunk in a sea of love? Well, I don’t wanna be here answering for you but I personally think there’s nowhere else you’d deserve to be in right now.

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