Love is a lot like water. The thing about water is that you can drown in it.
Water bends light in ways that can make a jagged bed of rocks looks like a safe place to land. Love is the same way. It has the power to distort reality into angles that can make danger look welcoming. You convince yourself that the love letters are messages worthy of the encapsulation of bottles; of preservation with the ability to stay afloat. You don’t even recognize when you are steering your ship in the wrong direction until it’s too late.
You are already lost at sea. The monsters begin to feel like home.
You collect apologies and treat them as prayers, throwing them at the storms until red skies in the morning don’t appear to be a source of concern. You have convinced yourself that they are your favorite color. So is your blood, when you hit that jagged rock bottom the wrong way. You get swept under the current and spun around until you lose all ability to determine which way is up. You convince yourself that you don’t even mind the dizziness or the burning in your lungs because it’s just nice to finally feel something.
Love is a lot like water. The more you drink, the more the thirst become unquenchable.
We are all searching for a lighthouse, but so many of us don’t even know what that looks like anymore. We end up chasing the moon’s ghost, and mirages of sunlight reflecting off the surface of what we think love is supposed to be. Truth is, we’re all just trying to teach ourselves how to swim. But sometimes, we get caught up in the belief that some people are worth drowning for.
Love is a lot like water, and we are all praying that someday, it will carry us to shore.