The Kid and the Sea

Now there was once a kid who was afraid of the sea. He does not have a morbid dread of water in general but of the sea in particular. His father was a Captain who sailed a thousand times on his ship but the kid never dared to accompany his father in his journeys. The kid heard all the stories his father underwent. He was amazed but remained terrified.

One morning, the kid woke up with a memory of his dream. He was swimming and enjoying the warmth of this tropical sea near their house. He never realized and noticed how much he desired to swim on this sea. So with all courage, he risked being vulnerable to the judging waves. He walked towards the shore and breathed the salt air. It smelled like spicy olives. He was near enough the waters but was making sure not to touch it. The sun was rising as an invitation to submerge in this endless liquid crystal in front of him.

He decided to talk to his sea just like his mother talking to her plants every morning when she waters them. “I am afraid but I want to,” he said. The sea replied a splash. He smiled. Yet he tiptoed back to his room and thought about he’s decision all over again.

It was already dark when he went out. Time flew fast when he feels this emotion towards the sea. He went to the sea alone. It was dark. He felt unsure. “This is gambling with higher risk of failure,” the kid thought. He can’t see the sea clearly but he can hear its breath. He thought about this over and over again but his decision was solid.


He jumped to the waters. Not slowly but abruptly. It was a plopping competition. He planned this and he was ready of what the outcome is. But the sea roared a storm. Giant waves came forcibly towards the shore thumping him aside. He reached the shore breathless and in pain. He can almost hear the sea yelling “Go away, I don’t want you swimming in me”. He slept crying in the comfort of the sands.

He was ready, or he thought he was. Facing this fear of the sea and experiencing its dwelling is something books can never teach him. He heard a lot and saw a lot but it was enough. He was carried by his father into their house and took care of his bloody chest. “I said you have to prepare. You have to prepare for the jump, for the dive, for the swim and for this,” his father said gesturing towards his wounded self. He did not say a thing.

The next morning, the kid went near the sea again but decided never to do what he did. It was painful for him watching its glittering surface. He was even envious of the fishes and their fins. But this is safer. This is good.

Now the kid has decided but he never noticed how he enjoyed even just the mere presence of the sea alone. In its absence, when he’s inside his room, tormented him more but he smiled every time his parents are around. It was the perfect masquerade the even his sea will never know. The sea, he thought and he imagined, might be suspicious but he continued the pretentious act.

The kid has decided but he found himself swimming over the sea again. He’s on his boat, the one his father built for him. He was not swimming but sailing, he defended. It was better. The sea will never notice and he’ll never get hurt. He watched as his sea swallowed the sun. He waited for his moon.

She’s here.