Thought Catalog

Between Two Worlds

  • 0

I clutch a photograph in my hand, crisp and well preserved, only a few years old. I find myself here, embedded in the gloss for as long as the photo survives.

In it, I am alone, comforted only by a submergence of pale blue. I am caught swimming, my hands outstretched, cupped as to pull myself through the water. My pigment has taken to the color of the atmosphere, shied into a light grey.

I swim, but I do not see. The water is thick with turbidity: fibers of fish scales, the forgotten breath of deforested sea weed. A snorkel leads from my puckered lips and broaches the thin surface above me. The snorkel is my division, because I am not as decisive as I might hope. I cannot fully detach myself from one world for another.

I cannot fully be alone.

Who snapped me, who captured me in photography’s grip, so that I may always be caught in the drift, so that I may always sneer behind my fogged goggles, in search of something? Who could see me when I could not see them? Was it my mother or my sister? Or my father? Could it have been a family member? Can a family stand to see one of their ranks in the vacuum between worlds?

Could I have set a timer? Could I have trusted technology to see me when my own eyes, my own iris, my pupils, were so clouded with the mist of open saltwater?

Too close to the surface, prickles of hair on the top of my head pluck into the air, desperate to breathe, but me, I seem to be looking for the oxygen in water; I am in search of answers.

And I can fully be alone.

In water, open and without distance, I am suddenly shrunken, I am suddenly small. With the blindness of nothing, no objects, no recollection of another human, only I exist.  Not even all of me, my legs loped off by the photo’s edge so that only my struggling arms can claw at the absence of company, only my weightless torso and diffusion of hair.

Not even gravity has me within its clutch, not even gravity, so universal, all powerful. Gravity, a fascist piece of physics, is irrelevant.

Yet, a world void of law, a world of impenetrable blue, is not enough.

No.

A world of impenetrable blue is too much.

This photo is three years old, but suddenly, it was taken five minutes ago. Me, between home life and college, going toward my future.  I do not trust myself with paramount decisions, so I keep the snorkel above water, I do not release the tether between myself and what I have known.

I am water because sometimes breathing is complicated. As we grow older, as we progress into worlds outside our living rooms, we desire snorkels so that we may breathe the air of relativity. I am water because sometimes the future is fogged, what is directly in front of us undulates between clarities. I am water, because sometimes I just flow, because photographs are not tyrants, and ultimately, we do move beyond the frame. TC mark

Powered by Revcontent

Poetry Lovers! 💖

Love a soft person. The ones who are positive, even in the worst of circumstances. Someone whose strength is not in bravado, but in their quiet. Someone who is strong for others because that is what is needed in that moment. Someone who is the moon that soothes instead of the sun that burns. Someone who sees the very best in people even when you think they aren’t worth it. The kind of person who always wants to do the best for those they love.

“I bought this on a whim to read as I was resting for the night, and I do not regret it one bit! Everything about the poetry in this book is amazing, heart breaking, and soul searching. It will lift your spirits on your darkest days. I want to thank the author so much for writing this, as it’s something I will be rereading a lot! Always remember, everything about you is important. You matter.” —McKayla

Click to heal your heart

More From Thought Catalog

  • Customconcern

    Carles guest-posting? 

  • http://twitter.com/viankaa bianca justiniano

    that was very beautiful. thank you.

  • http://www.facebook.com/iamahmad Ahmad Radheyyan

    This is a refreshing retreat from most of the self-absorbed articles on here. Thanks.

  • Pamela Soucre

     As someone who spent the happiest moments of their childhood at the beach I find this article beautiful and evocative. Thank you.

  • Anonymous

    Thank you all for your kind words!

  • http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=612928768 Samie Rose

    No haters here. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

    Like I said already, you toe the line between sounding just poetic enough and a little bit forced but it’s on the side of just enough – just keep a watch for that in future posts.

    Lovelovelove.

  • http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=612928768 Samie Rose

    No haters here. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

    Like I said already, you toe the line between sounding just poetic enough and a little bit forced but it’s on the side of just enough – just keep a watch for that in future posts.

    Lovelovelove.

blog comments powered by Disqus