The Beach

"You can't wait around for bad things to happen to bad people." - A good friend of mine.

Spring break was a time of renewal for me. I spent Thursday on the beach running with the waves and catching sun rays. (I should be a rapper). I came to the beach for rest and relaxation. I wanted a moment to spend time with nature and reflect upon the events of the past few months. I also wanted a chance to let go of something I had been holding on to for so long.

I'm grieving. I have been for the past few months and I feel that each day brings a new feeling of hope. The beach was my Mecca. I stood upon the shore and searched for a rock that represented my relationship with Mr. Passion. I wanted a rock that symbolized all of the good as well as the bad. I found a beautiful reddish-brown rock with black freckles scattered on its side. This was it. I picked it up and held it firmly in my hand. Mr. Safety was with me and he asked me what I was doing with the rock. I told him I was going to throw it into the sea. We walked down the beach hand in hand and silently took in the beautiful coastline.

My spirit was at peace. My heart seemed to beat a bit stronger and my soul seemed to soar with each incoming wave. I felt as if things would finally be okay in the end. My heart aches, but at least it is still beating.  My soul has scabbed over and started to regenerate itself. There is life after death.

I walked out to the shore and began to descend into the water. It was a bit cold outside- 72 degrees in Malibu isn't exactly tropical weather. My feet began to sink in followed by my thighs, torso, and chest. I didn't stop walking until my entire body was swallowed by the sea. 

My mind drifted back to the time when I was eight years old and decided to dedicate my life to Christ. One Sunday afternoon, my mother dressed me in all white- a white dress, swim cap, and underpants. I stood in front of the baptismal pool at church in all white, waiting for the minister to usher me into the water. If I close my eyes hard enough I can still remember his over sized grip holding onto the small of my back and chanting the baptismal prayer. I close my eyes and feel the water rush over my face. I felt like I was drowning. He was drowning the old woman to bring the new one to life.

Salt water baptism. I shoved my head underneath the waves and allowed the drowning feeling to come over once again. I wanted the old woman to die a second time. The woman who couldn't sleep at night, could hardly eat during the day, and felt as if life was an unbearable series of ups and downs. There was nothing I wanted more than to see her wash away and declare her dead at sea.

Mission accomplished.

I rose out of the water and walked towards the beach and my faithful companion, Mr. Safety. He looked at me and smiled, but pointed out that I still had something in my hand. I didn't believe him until I glanced at my index finger and saw a smooth volcano red rock sticking out from underneath. Sigh. Sometimes no matter how hard we try, there will always be remnants of the past sticking around. 

I looked at the rock and began to give a silent eulogy. 

My red rock

I loved you

I was faithful to you

I had dreams of you and me spending our lives together in perfect harmony

I wished for days where we would walk along the beach

I wished for nights where you would turn to me and say, well how was your day, dear?

I kept hoping that if I loved you enough, you would eventually feel the same for me.

I love you

As I wound up for the pitch, I realized all of the feelings I had weren't going to go away. I chose one moment that I needed to lose to start my life anew. I chose his smile. The way he would smile at me when we were together. He was one of those people that not only smiled with his mouth, but smiled with his eyes as well.  

Splash

It's time to start over...

P. Manolos