Lost

He sat with me on the seashore. I held the twig and scribbled on the sand while he sat gazing the waves. “It’s beautiful.” He said.

I saw the wave coming nearer and nearer every second and I held the twig tighter. I broke it. My palm started to bleed and he asked if I was angry. I wasn’t. He asked if something was bothering me. Nothing was. I wanted to tell him I feared water. I feared the waves. I wanted to tell him I wanted to shout at the waves for coming so close every time and running away like for a minute I meant something to them and the next I never existed. I wanted to shout at them for holding me captive in their beauty and the other time frightened me of their strength. I wanted to shout at them for being the only teacher. Tell me, is it fair for the sea alone to teach me the way of life?

But I don’t say anything to him. I simply say, “I got lost.” And he smiled.

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(Picture Source: Pinterest)

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on “Lost
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