“We were like lightening... Unpredictable. Electric. Bright. Hot. Even dangerous. Silent. Beautiful. Distracting. Lethal. Enigmatic...”
I was supposed to have an answer today, about what I thought we were like. Honestly, all that was coming to mind was “like us”. But I know that’s not very explanatory, so I really, really tried to come up with something. I tried for hours.
I truthfully wanted to be able to say we were like snow, because I like snow. I like what it does and how it makes me feel. But... We aren’t snow. I couldn’t compare us to snow at all. I tried. Quite a while. Then I thought maybe I’d stray from nature, maybe we were a food or object... I was still struggling. Nothing came to mind. So then I wondered...
I wondered if maybe we were still like lightning. And I concluded maybe we are. There are so many forms of lightning: heat, ball, sheet, bolt (cloud to ground or ground to cloud)... There are even different energies and heat levels. But after much reflection, I don’t think lightning best fits us anymore, even if I can still relate it to us.
On April 23rd, we had such an intimate connection that I saved the conversation. Rereading it made my blood rush. And it was then that I decided we are like water; endless waves crashing inside me, against us. Let me explain.
Water is crucial to human existence. In fact, it’s crucial to most existence. 60% of a human body is water. 71% of the entire world is water. But, a person can drown in 2in (5cm) of water if someone holds their face in it, because we cannot breathe water, no matter how much we need it to live. We are encouraged to drink between 2.7-3.7 liters a day, but if you drink 3-4 liters in less than an hour, most medical professionals agree you could cause “water intoxication” or in lay-man’s terms, you drown yourself. But again, water is crucial. Water has so many benefits: hydration, clearer skin, decreases brain fog, flushes out bodily toxins, helps the kidneys, treats headaches...
We have become far more crucial to my existence than I ever planned. And I know I can’t breathe you in or sustain myself on you, but so much of me is you, now. I can’t go a single day without wanting (yes, I genuinely want) to talk to you, see you, be with you. You have caused me some great pains, but my god do the benefits you’ve given me outweigh them. And I know I should learn moderation, and I’m sure I can and will, but I am also aware we need to learn to be more moderate together. We are too much right now, and not a “good” too much, anymore.
And no matter how “great” water is, it’s also very unpredictable. Calm waters could still have undercurrents, cause riptides, or even signal a pending tsunami. Tropical waters could be colder than anticipated; and let’s face is, some water is never going to be warm enough to submerge yourself in. Water that looks like solid ice can crack at any moment. Rain causes flooding, erosion, and could kill crops and flowers. And of course, we may never know how many ships or bodies have sunk to the bottom; tossed and dragged down by waves. We may never know all the creatures that live below our feet.
We have become unpredictable. Even scary at times. We aren’t always the safety net we started as, but instead the predators feeding on the smaller, weaker aspects of each other.
But then, when you look at water, the way it shines, reflects the sky, washes over your feet as you stand on the shoreline, drips from your hair after a shower or swimming under the hot summer sun... The way it quenches thirst like nothing else, how ice on a burn or sprain suddenly feels numb (there’s no pain)... Water is incredible. It’s beautiful. It’s peaceful. It’s natural. Water gives and gives and gives...
We have moments of sheer, unexplainable, “no words describe it” beauty. We are what most people can only hope to find.
But then... Water also takes and it doesn’t ask first. It can be unforgiving. It can be dark. It can be toxic. It can kill. It can be used to torture. Water, especially oceans, scare a lot of people.
Sometimes, we are toxic and scary. We have become super unpredictable. The tides go in and out, the waves sometimes hit with such force we are knocked down for days.
The amount of water that has come from our eyes at this point is... Unbelievable, when I think about the beauty we once were.
But love, remember, water is reflective. Water shows you what you show it. Us together and as individuals are not healthy and we’re seeing that reflected back. I think our water could be peaceful, like a small brook or a crystal blue lake surrounded by trees and wild flowers of all species. Maybe we could be a warm bath that we find rejuvenation in.
But we need a filter... We need to find and sift out all the things that make us “bad”. I still see potential on our good days. I still see all that we are drowning at the bottom and I’d still like to save it.
Princess Diana once said, "... it was also a situation where you couldn't indulge in feeling sorry for yourself: you had to either sink or swim. And you had to learn that very fast.” She was talking about being thrown into the royal family, “shark infested waters” as she put it. But the same can be said about our situation.
My love, sinking is out of a person’s control. Even the best swimmer if left in the water too long will eventually sink— temperature, exhaustion, having to sleep, having to eat... And swimming? Swimming is exhausting! Especially when you're doing it to save your life... And right now, we have been swimming in circles for months, maybe even years. It’s no wonder we are exhausted and drained, and questioning whether this is worth it or right for us.
But what if there was a third option? What if there was a boat, and that boat never sinks? What if we finally decide to be the captains of our “ship”— masters of our sea and see where this goes? Can we maybe be a team— the skipper and the first mate? We can take responsibility for where this adventure takes us and if we want a beautiful destination, then we need to actively try getting there together. Can we maybe find water beautiful again and not feel like we’re always slipping under it?
I want to believe we can still be each other’s life vest, and more importantly, each other’s love and best friend.