Dear Ocean: Air Pockets

Tell me I am not reaching out in vain

Tell me there are air pockets somewhere

Tell me there will be hands reaching out to me,

offering me a leg up because I keep stumbling through friendships,

through life,

thinking I have somewhere to go

only to lose sight of my destination

yet again

in the fog that is my mind.

My partner is like the sun

and the moon

and the whole sky

I wonder how such a wonderful person can exist;

I can’t believe my luck.

I can’t believe my luck,

in friendships,

how everything seems to turn sour so quick.

I know I’m lactose intolerant

And my stomach curls and twists when I allow myself an iced treat

But am I friendship intolerant?

Prove me wrong ocean,

Please.

Tell me I am not reaching out in vain

Tell me there are air pockets somewhere.