A boy on a sandbar

I was walking on a thin strip of sand, it glistened under the almost starry night...
The river on one side...its direction definite and predictable. The open, inviting ocean on the other: rough, dangerous, volatile and endless possibility.

I was walking a thin line, I could choose to be vicarious tonight or I could turn my back on this impulsive, senile decision, go home in the morning. Walk away from the ocean, sail through the river, it would be easy. I knew where the river would lead me...knew what was waiting on the other side. The same life...

The ocean was inviting, endless, no destination, no direction. Its vastness would engulf all that I am. I was scared to let go.

The sand felt soft under my feet, it felt good, I could have stood there for a lifetime, stood there very still... till time would be gone and the ocean and river would meet.
Then I wouldn't have to make a choice, I'd let nature takes its course.

Nature took its course, I didn't make a decision, I didn't have to. I stood still, sand caressing my feet, holding me down in its comfort. I couldn't move.

What hit me next was the more precarious of the two... but it felt good. It crept up from behind me... silent and strong. All I heard was the lashing of waves.
It got a hold of me. I crashed into it with no regret, no thought. It felt right. I had taken the plunge, I picked the ocean... I chose not to know where it would take me, but I felt it all...Felt how it took me in...and that was it, I couldn't think. I felt.

I felt the harshness in its current and then felt the tender lapping of the waves. Tasted the salt from its neck and let myself go when it held on and didn't let me go.
When it had had enough, it rolled me back on to the shore.

I hit the surface hard, it hurt. Yet I wanted to go back. Its arms inviting and the lull of its voice endearing... it hurt to tear myself away, it hurt to stop. It took all my strength to walk away...but I did.
I walked away before I could be captivated by the pleasure of that pain... of not knowing where this was going, of a rash decision that I will never regret or forget.

I walked away and it called out to me... I turned around one last time not knowing whether I would see it again. Cold and wet, drenched in its bitter-sweet venom, I smiled at the ocean... I had taken more from it than it did from me and it would never know.

I had never felt more safe in the arms of the reckless and I had never felt more alive.