I hear the call of the ocean. It sings to me, beckoning for me to return. It is the place I go when I need to heal, to regain control, to settle my thoughts. It has been calling for weeks but I resisted the pull. Focusing on getting through the dark days by keeping my head down and barreling through. Hoping that each passing day, the ache inside would fade away. Keeping pace with the slow lengthening of the winter days.
Resistance is useless, I know the command will eventually deliver me here. Where I come to talk, where I come to listen. The last few days, the burn inside has been too intense to endure much longer. Finally, last night as I lay awake, I knew today would be the day I would relent. Returning to the water so I could hear the voices on the wind. Telling me it’s okay, telling me to be strong.
I heard my dad’s voice, telling me I need to go. This is where I know I can once again be close to him, to hear those encouraging words I’ve missed so much. Hearing his voice was the final push over the edge. The signal that it was time to make the trek so I could come home strong.
The crying of the birds, the crashing of the waves, erasing the disorder. Allowing me to begin again, with new energy, with new focus. I have returned whole again. Giving away the despair, to be devoured by the monster below the sea.