The Ocean Beckons

The violence of the ocean beckoned me with every crash against the edifice. Deep blue turned to foamy white, a purification process that was deeply appealing. My body would be just as viscous as water if I did leap down to encounter the jagged rocks. My thoughts- which have the habit of spinning in circles- were only of the ocean, they almost propelled me forward. I had to sit down to contain my urge. These moments were as close to happiness as I get; I felt suspended in time and space, I felt comfortable in a microcosm of my thoughts. Nobody ever has access to anyone's true thoughts and this is the greatest freedom, one of the few freedoms I had left. Knowledge and understanding is true power, I kept telling myself, so do not give up.

I got up and walked closer to the edge, toying my feet closer to the drop. It was as if my body knew how close I was to acting; my heartbeat pulsated in my temples, my hands shook, I took a step back. My lungs mimicked the waves as I sat and meditated, or tried to. I clenched my hands tight to subdue the tremors. Started pep talking myself and reminding myself about our daughter on the way about our lovely life together about my success professionally. My phone buzzed me back into the reality I must swim along stream with, everyone is always expecting something from me.

I walked through the office, greeting everyone as I passed them with what I call the 'opposite reflex'. Whatever I think, I usually say the opposite response. Take the receptionist Janice as an example, I am accustomed to thinking how someone in her mid-fifties could maintain such a mind numbing job for the sake of owning the latest fashions and her once a year cruise of the pacific. However I smiled and asked her how she was, perhaps commenting on how nice her attire of the day was, mainly to boost her in the only direction she is heading, that is the seeking of compliments and approval of her peers and acquaintances.

'Are you coming to the Spencer's farewell tonight Mark? Everyone's going.' She half yelled this as I was walking purposefully to my desk.

'Wouldn't miss the opportunity for anything,' I said, struggling to contain intended sarcasm.

After hearing this news I dumped my computer bag on the desk and grabbed my cigarettes hiding them in my jacket pocket. I darted past Janice into the elevator to get to the rooftop. It was a decent view from the roof that morning. The city was still awakening and the cold morning light was scattering off all the glass buildings creating a kaleidoscope. The flame curled and struggled in the wind, I cupped my hand over the cigarette and singed my thumb in the process. I focused on steadily drawing the smoke in and out, watching how the smoke twirled and then expanded to mix with the rest of the city pollutants. Just as the nicotine hit with its distinct bodily drop, Spencer, with his iconic strut, walked across the rooftop towards me.

'Mark my man, ready for tonight? It's gonna be big, the boat we got isn't super luxury but it should hold up in the choppy ocean if we are lucky,' he chuckled.

Maybe it was the cigarettes that my body is not used to, or a random spurt of courage, or the universe whispering to me what my true destiny should be.

'Not this time, Spence. Maria is not well, I said I would cook dinner, sorry,' I said hoping he would buy my lies.

'You're loss mate, maybe its for the best or you might have fallen overboard blind drunk as you always are,' he laughed. If only he knew how ironic this conversation was.

This morning's ocean crashed in my head, I had to go back there, especially in this daring mood. I headed back to the office with a spring in my step with a new energy of resolution and a feeling of the universe's synchronicity. I will live this day as my last, because it is.