I remember when I wanted you to be my anchor.
It was the season when it was full of typhoon and I was in the middle of the ocean, all alone.
It wasn’t always like that.
Sometimes, Mother Nature would be so understanding, she would let my days go on with gentle breeze. The moon would also gently lead the current to be kind, pulling me in with the tides where I wanted to.
But like I told you, it wasn’t always like that.
Sometimes, she would whip out the harshest waves on my way. Along with the sharpest raindrops and loudest roar of thunder. The sun would not want to come out and play, It would rather hide behind the heavy and thick blanket of grey clouds. At times like that, I have no choice but barely staying afloat, just not to drown.
I let her ramble.
I couldn’t fight against whatever’s coming or so I thought.
I was so tired. I wanted to rest.
This boat of mine wasn’t build on a very good specs so it’s not weird if it was missing a thing or two, or three. Let alone the fact, it has been years or even decades since it landed on ports or harbors.
I have no anchor. I could never rest . I couldn’t slow down . It’s either always being dragged around the sea and see where it takes me or I would lifelessly trying to obstruct the pathways then shamelessly failed. I’ve learned the art to surrender and ride the wind once I trusted the sails.
That’s when I saw you. Cruising around in this deep-blue water with ease.
You were steady. Stagnant. Balanced. As if you were a long time friend with the water. Looked like the tantrums never phased you or so I thought.
I would’ve blamed my homesickness for the sense of security. Mindlessly I tried to get a hold on you.
Help me.
Help me. Soothe me. Hold me. Tell me the waves wouldn’t be that bad anymore. Tell me the storm will come down soon. I want to be reassured the world wouldn’t end right now. Tell me there are still things I could look forward to once I landed where I’m supposed to.
I chanted again and again and again and again but you seemed to be unmoved.
I leaned in a little bit too close and that’s when I noticed.
There are parts of you that aren’t all that. Cracks on your windows. Missing wood panels on the floor. The malfunctioning of your steering wheel. Sails with unfriendly rips. The absent of a life boat and wind-steer and so on. I thought, you were so ready to let it all go, to go down, to wherever the hell. This doesn’t feel safe anymore.
When I took notice.
When I wanted bigger things for myself.
That’s when it all gets better.
The moment I knew. The moment the sky slowly faded into a bright blue tint with the hint of the sunray. Like a jolt of lightning, realizations just shoot out from the back of my head, “I should just continue to sail on my own.”
I slowly changed my course. If I stayed there, I would’ve drown. You could’ve been the cause of my shipwreck. It would’ve been lovely if you were my anchor and my rock, but death wouldn’t be an option.
I would never get to see what’s coming.
Maybe, for now, no anchor is needed.
Maybe, for now, this is how I should live.
I don’t know.
Who knows?
Maybe that’s a good thing.
Maybe I’ll drift away and find something.
