Summary: He wants to be there again. He wants to do it all different, so that he and Elizabeth somehow could run away where no one knew their names and never have to be dragged into the world of politics and conspiracy, krakens and murder, pain and evilness hidden beneath tentacles and powdered wigs.
Experience
He cannot experience it, cannot touch it. He doesn't need air or hearts or anything. He can only watch and remember.
He watches Jack as he hobbles and sashays his way through life, looking so charming and debonair and heroic and lovable. He watches Barbossa limp and laugh and fight his way to a bloody, glorious death he would no doubt proud of if he could feel at all. He is trapped, like Will, by death.
Will can only watch as Elizabeth grows and prospers as Pirate King, as she falls in love with Jack, as their son grows tall and is the spitting image of his father, only with his mother's fair hair.
The moments where he can feel are brief. He can feel, with both calloused and soft hands (from continuous contact with water) the cracked and barnacled hull of what was once the Interceptor, many years after it went under. He remembers that day, back when he was young and whole and alive and hopelessly naïve, thinking he could save Elizabeth and himself and everyone else from the evil Barbossa.
He loves this memory so much, and hates it at the same time. He wants to be there again. He wants to do it all different, so that he and Elizabeth somehow could run away where no one knew their names and never have to be dragged into the world of politics and conspiracy, krakens and murder, pain and evilness hidden beneath tentacles and powdered wigs.
He stays there, for an hour if time allows, completely submerged in water that he inhales like air. His hair flutters about his face as if the waves were wind, but the bubbles that tickle his chin when he breathes (ha! As if he needs it) bring him back from what would be a lovely fantasy of him back on land – he missed land so much – being a simple blacksmith who was secretly in love with the governor's daughter.
At the same time, he's glad he is down there. It's the only way he knows that he had been alive once, that he had gotten to fight against corrupted bureaucrats and heartless captains, become best friends with the most notorious pirate in the Caribbean, and loved and married the most beautiful woman who had ever lived. He had made a difference. It was palpable, like the wood underneath his clenched knuckles.
He had taken the place of a heartless wretch, and carried all the souls who had died at sea to everlasting peace, finally. He had silenced their suffering. He had become a father, even if he hadn't talked to his son yet, but he would keep him safe as best he could (which was a lot considering Will was the sea). He had fought and loved and, even if he didn't make his own destiny, at least he lived it.
At least he experienced it, and that's more than he gets nowadays, so he watches, remembers, and realizes, in a jolt of much-needed clarity, he could experience a lot worse.