And here, here is the only place I want to live forever…into the heart of a beach.
And from here, I am loved. I am at peace.
No one will break my heart into pieces. I could just simply listen to the rushing sound of the ocean and count my heartbeat.
The ocean surf have more regular rhythms like the persistent echo of my heart.
Yes, it called me. I am here once again. And all of a sudden, the flood of memories came.
The years, those long and happy years are parading, grandly marching before my eyes. I was just beginning a period of discovery then.
Perhaps at twenty, the world is tremendous to everybody. It certainly was to me. Everyone knows that physical time is simply a physical time.
It is how things happen and how things change. And, every time I ventured out, I found patterns. All kinds of patterns.
Beautiful faces, ugly and comically distorted faces; pattern of billiards and football; pattern for the clinking of silverwares during patterned meal; pattern of the sky during sunset; of the tawny or a silvery gray sandy beaches; of strangers on the subway and all that.
It was here and I still remember the same sounds I remembered years ago…the occasional call of the water birds and the rushing roar of the ocean.
And in here, I want to sleep each night, lulled by the sounds of the buzzing insects and the soft breeze of the wind whipping into my face, tossing my hair; to sit here in the early sunshine and not think of anything, not to think of about anyone in this world and just simply bask on the sun and let my mind run free. For this is my island of peace.
In this place I want to spend the rest of my life, reading my favorite story…the scene of my life. In here, I want to be apart from the rest of the world.
I want to spend the days sitting on a place where the rolling surf of the ocean would not reach me; to clasp my hands about my knees and draw a circle of water around myself, letting all the troubles and pain stay outside the line.
No one will harm me here.
This place will forever warm my cold nights and comfort my loneliness. In here, I could gaze out toward the far line that marked the edge of the ocean.
Yes, I choose to be alone and I will make mine. To live in a content routine of life. I will make for myself. I will no longer afraid and uncertain and will have no regrets. I will just simply wait. I will simply think of the people I have permanently and temporarily lost but without pain. It is because I know that there will come a time one day that I will get the chance of finally complete again. And maybe, just maybe one day when the raging sea will wash away the pain, I’ll be fine.
Bea C. Pilotin
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