Prose and poetry,  Relationships


It was cold, wet, windy.

Photo by Amit Shaiwale on Unsplash

Waves were crashing down upon my head, one after another, pummeling me into submission. Saltwater-soaked clothes like weights, dragging me down deeper into the churning frothing freezing liquid hell, anchoring me to the sea floor even as I struggled to keep my head above the current.

And yet as my mouth, nose, lungs burned and filled with water, and as my vision blurred, and all I could hear was the muffled sounds of the underwater chaos that threatened to sweep me into Death’s arms, something flickered in front of me. Strong arms pulling me up. Away from the suffocating wetness.

I needn’t even open my eyes to know; it was your scent in the air, mixed with the ocean breeze, that told me that once again, you had saved me from drowning.

An old piece of writing, rediscovered in my archives.

Ela is a twentysomething who is constantly getting stuck in self-destructive behavior and bouts of low self-esteem. She struggles with depression and writes to relieve herself of her feelings. Sometimes she even blogs about other things like makeup and positivity. One of her pieces was published in the Inquirer Young Blood in October 2017. She likes cats, dogs, and sometimes even people.

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