The Haunting

"The Ocean was never my escape; she had always been my destination."

When one day you decide to come to a halt, I want you to look behind your shoulder and see not the hopelessness and regrets you've managed to store within the four corners where death lingers around; I want you to see how far you've managed to travel away from the shore and into the heart of the ocean.

These sleepless nights shall not be filled with the eerie silence of soul-voided bodies but with the turbulent crash of waves along the shores; not with the blinding operating room headlights but with the faint glow of protozoans suspended in the sea and the distant burning stars, existing not for you but for themselves, perhaps.

You will run in haste not for someone else but towards that meeting place where you'll slowly tread across the shallow, rolling saltwater. You will learn names, you will gaze for hours at the horizon, you will go deeper, you will float, you will embrace and never learn to fear because by then, you will be in a place you loved most.

You will hardly remember the salty taste of tears on your lips for when you are with the ocean, you will shed your tears no more.

This passive passion 

is why it's impossible;

why it stays a dream.

(image from Neil Gaiman's The Ocean at the End of the Lane)