There are days when I long for the sunshine of the California shore, long for the gently lapping waters of low tide as I walk the precipice of a beloved element and mortal enemy in one.
Water steadies the keel of my ship, sets my thoughts in a semblance of a coherent narrative. I only wish that the narrative were more beautiful or positive. For every joy, for every beacon of light, there is a looming darkness that foreshadows what always comes: darkest night, and the chill that seeps into the marrow of my bones.
I am weary and sleepless, even when unconscious. My mind roams, even when my body remains static. I am, as with light, a particle and a wave. But for all of my mind’s revelations, I am unremarkable in my inaction. I wonder how my parents felt, decades ago. I wonder how much they chose to tolerate – and how much of it now poisons me from the inside, seeping into my veins as it once seeped into their own.
Blood is thicker than water.
Day 147: If You Tolerate This, Your Children Will Be Next – Manic Street Preachers