Because I haven't posted anything for a while. This happened one day when I really wanted to write something, anything. And that 'anything' happened to be this.
Disclaimer: So one day I went into a shop and asked if I could buy an Axel. The shop keeper laughed. End of story. AKA, I don't own them. Any of them. Damn it.
Cleansing
He likes to stand in the sea, with the water lapping at his toes and the waves out in the far distance. It's calming somehow, therapeutic. Even though, yeah okay, it isn't exactly a sea but it's close – as close as he's going to get anyway. And he's not exactly a boy so everything evens out.
It hurts sometimes, this half-life. This non-existent life. It makes him question everything, makes him think everything over in his mind until his head can't take anymore. It drags at him piece by piece until he feels like screaming at the top of his lungs. But he doesn't. Instead he comes here.
It's like being in a dream. A far off, barely remembered dream that clings to the edges of his memory like seaweed on a rock. It's not a nice metaphor –or is that simile?- but it's the only one he can think of and he doesn't care anymore.
He imagines it's like breathing. Sure he can breathe, just like everyone else. Except sometimes he's not sure. Is he really breathing? It's a normal question, just like the one like inevitably follows – is he really alive? He stands in the sea, at the edge of the tide and waits to be pulled in.
The water tugs at him, pulls at his soul and he finds himself swaying back and forth. He lets himself go, revelling in the feeling.
His senses roam free, his nose catches the smell of sea, fish, sand...It's a bright, clean smell even though he only comes here when it's dark. The sun will sink while he's there and sometimes he'll watch it. Other times he'll close his eyes and will it away.
It's strange. Sometimes he can't stand the light and yet at other times he craves it like water. He needs the light to live – even as he wants to turn his back on it. It's forbidden; something that disgusts him. He hates the light and yet...he also loves it.
Maybe it's the other part of him. The part that can't stand being alone – the part that wants to revel in friendship and dance and laugh and...
He stands in the waves and waits.
One day it'll wash him away. The waves will overpower him and he'll find himself helpless against their power. He'll succumb – willingly or not he'll succumb. And he fears he won't come back. He's afraid of drowning in those waves. Afraid of dying in the sun.
For now though...For now he has the sea, and it's calm, relaxing waves. And he's free.