I watch my face gaze back at me, rippling and distorted; the colors slightly skewed. My skin is strikingly pale in the murky teal sea and the salty tears from my eyes blend with the salt water of the ocean. Watching my features waver with the tide, I realize maybe this is the way we should look. Who said perfectly smooth mirrors were how we were meant to see ourselves? My reflection in the ocean reassures me that imperfections are natural, and I somehow feel complete. I brush my hair back behind my ears, a familiar motion, and sit back on my favorite rock. Surrounded by the timeless boulders, always there for me, providing stability, I slowly relax. My muscles unwind, the tension of stress releasing, and my lips transcend from a tight line to a curve mirroring the bouncy waves. Today the beach is smiling, glinting with a thousand diamonds cast by the suns rays, with a handful of white tipped crests sprinkled throughout. White rays dance along the beach, ricocheting off bits of glass and highlighting the glitter in the rocks. I came to the beach this morning because I knew it was where the emotions of the sky were painted, and the clear blue day was the promise of a gorgeous seaside. The scene is so beautiful I can barely stand it. My face remembers how a genuine smile feels, as opposed to the forced curl it had become accustomed to. Happiness is somehow no longer a façade, and the rush of emotion is suddenly overwhelming. And even though I’ve recently been stuck in an emotional tidal wave, this is different. Instead of feeling like I’m drowning, I feel alive. Still perched on my rock, I stare out at the water. Maybe its easier to watch the waves crash down against the shore than watch your world crash down around you. Getting caught up in this allows you to forget everything and anything else, and to live only in the moment, the way people probably always should. My thoughts spin into a whirlwind as I continue to marvel at the sea. The ocean represents so much , is so vast yet so touchable at the same time; too big to imagine while being right at your fingertips. Everyday I sit here and look at the water, and it looks different each time. I snap another photograph, capturing today’s purity, to add to my collection, demonstrating the many different faces of the beach. The beach is tangible evidence that all bad things will pass. It never disappears, no matter what storm ravages it, and the beautiful blue days never cease to return. Hurricanes and blizzards can hit it by surprise, and cast a temporary depression over the impressionable landscape, but it never lasts forever. The beach is the epitome of hope-absolutely anything can happen to it and it always returns to its calm state. Seeing the ocean dark and stormy never makes me fear that I’ll never see it again in its pristine state-its probably the only thing in the world you can have ultimate faith in it. Nothing lasts forever, and not even a thunderstorm of emotion is permanent. A wave breaks on my rock, spraying saltwater on my face. I’m snapped out of my train of thought, but still smiling. I tuck my camera back into my bag, excited for the picturesque photo I snagged today, which would contrast nicely with the slightly more ominous snapshots from the week before. I swivel my Ipod so Muse plays just a bit louder, the perfect soundtrack for complicated thoughts. The haunting vocals of “Blackout” blend with my ideas and I stare back out at the water, feeling the sun slowly gaining brightness. The diamonds dancing on the water multiply, so many of them it just looks like a shimmering glare on the water. I hear voices coming closer, so I get up, the spell broken now that I’m not alone. However, as I begin to wander back down the road towards my house, the comforting thoughts remain in my head, spinning around to the beat of another Muse song. I feel at ease with the world, which is why I love the beach so much. The stability of the beach reaches out to you and holds you tighter than any person could ever hug you. I’m still smiling as I amble down the narrow sidewalk, kicking a smooth rock, my own little piece of beach to keep until I can come back. That day reassured me that even the worst of feelings pass, and while things are not always smooth and easy, every storm has an ending. I smiled to myself and everyone I passed on the way home, brimming with what probably seemed like a slightly inexplicable joy. I felt better than I had in a long time, and knew, when I needed to, that I could always go back to my rock.
for english we had to write about a day, and thats a day after i came out of a very bad month of si and suicidal feelings. its only my first draft, but id love feedback. seriously