The calling.

I am under it's spell. Not only does it consume me, but it consumes the night, touching everything with it's mystical glow. I am betwitched, by the moon. As I sit on the edge of the water, I close my eyes. I feel the ocean breeze hitting my skin like ice, sending shivers down my entire body, causing me to wrap my arms around myself even tighter. I can even taste the ocean, for it's saltiness lingers in the air. People would never understand why I was here. They would never understand how suddenly my urge to be near the ocean would come to me, and how quickly I would have to induldge. For as long as I can remember, the sea has been a part of my life. The only thing I ever had in common with my grandfather.  Although I never met him, his true love was for the ocean. I remember hearing stories about him from my mother, about how he spent all the time he could out on his boat, amongst the waves. There is just something about the sea; what is is, what it holds. It goes on as far as the eye can see, full of mystery and adventure. As I think of him now, tears roll down my cheek. Being near the sea is the only way I felt close to the people I lost. It's funny, for that's what first attracted me to Chad. He and I shared an equal love for the sea. Days and days we would go out, fishing, swimming, exploring. Now that he is gone too, this is the only way. The only way that I feel okay. I know he wouldn't want me to be sad, to mope around.... So everytime I miss him, no matter what time it is... I walk down to the beach, sit on the waters edge and look out a far as I can... For when I am there, I can almost feel him beside me, smiling that lopsided grin of his at me.


The waves whisper to me, calling me to the soft sand.

The water sweeps over my feet, surrounds where I stand.



The breeze caresses my face, whips my hair.

The wind encloses my body, acknowledging I'm there.