I know I fell; hard. But maybe I plunged beneath an ocean, so deep and blue. Because I can feel the tide pulling and tugging at me. Back and forth, back and forth, down, down below. Where? I have no clue. But I'm fighting, I want you to know that. I'm fighting to reach the surface and stay alive. My arms are reaching, far, high above me, anticipating the feeling of cool air caressing my pruned, pale hands. My legs kick, flail in the water, trying to push me upward so my burning lungs can take in air to cleanse my tired and failing body. I feel the pressure of the water trying to squeeze the life right out of me, smother me. The waves get harsher and I'm being tumbled around like a shirt in the dryer. Around and around, no stopping. The water around me is cold, icing my entire body and I swear it's trying to rip me in half. It's like time stops when I see you again, everyday and even hear your voice. I can pick out your voice anytime, anywhere. Sort of out of habit of being so close to you all these years. I try to shield myself away from you and your voice, run away but I think I ran too far because, you know. I'm in the ocean and I think I'm drowning in it. I'm not asking you to save me, I just want to let you know that you pushed me into this ocean and I'm not going to let myself drown in you, in the waves of pain you create like a huge wave pool at the water park in the summertime. I know you're so not worth it, not worth all this suffering and grieving over but I just can't help it. I just keep sinking and my lungs wont let me breath, the pressure is so intense, I may explode. Why can't I breach on the surface?