Now She Will Never Leave

I can see the place where Ella was, her footsteps in the sand ingrained in my mind even once the ocean took them away, erasing the evidence of her existence. I can see Ella’s blonde hair, floating behind her as she lay back, surrendering to the waves. Once she relaxed you could see the tension that had been in the set of her shoulders despite her youth. I can see Ella, hair plastered to her skin, running towards the ocean in the storm. Arms outstretched, not caring about the cold or the danger. But none of us cared about the danger before. I can see Ella’s anticipation as she ran ahead of us, as if the ocean was a long lost friend she couldn’t wait to reconnect with. It didn’t matter if it had been an hour or a year since she’d been in, it always seemed as if she felt she’d been away for far too long. 

Now she will never leave. 

The ocean used to be a comfort. It used to be what I thought of when I couldn’t sleep at night. It used to be the place where I felt most at home. But as much as I loved the ocean, she loved it more. As well as I could swim, she was better. And still, she’s the one who is gone. She’s the one who surrendered just a little bit too far, who gave in at just the wrong moment. She’s the one who caught the ocean on a bad day, angry about something unrelated, and paid the price. The ocean was her home, her family, her friends, her partner, her forever. 

Now she will never leave. 

The sand is packed beneath me as I walk along the water’s edge almost as if I am daring the ocean to reach out and pull me in. Too take me and bring me to her. Too let me see her smile again, let me see her eyes light at the motion of the waves, let me see her relax as the water envelopes her.

I wish it was easy to say that it was the oceans fault. That the ocean came and took someone too young, too beautiful, too loving, too carefree, too trusting, and drowned her for no particular reason. I wish I could say he came and stole her away, that she struggled and fought for air before running out. But in my heart I know that she went peacefully. That a part of her wanted to join him beneath the surface, spend the rest of time peaceful and content. I don’t know if that’s a bad thing or if I just want it to be. 

Now she will never leave. 

Droplets of water hit my shoulders. From the ocean, or the sky, or just from inside my mind, I don’t know. 

I can see my reflection in the glass as I caught the occasional glimpse of her. I wasn’t worried; I had no reason to be. She came back, grinning wider than ever despite the bone deep cold making her whole body shake. But she was happy, and we were so sure that she was our Ella, the one who could walk into the ocean in January without faltering. The one who could be out in the water for hours and still beg to go back in the moment she stepped from the ocean’s grasp. The who faltered in the world, but against the ocean she was invincible in the way you are when you have a complete trust in who and what is around you. When you know there’s nothing you could say or do that would make them turn their back on you. And then it’s an even bigger surprise when you find they’re no longer there for you.

So you falter and you fall and you wonder how you were ever dumb enough to trust like that. And you wish you never felt so at home, so happy, because now all you have is the ache of knowing you’ll never be that content again. You’ll never see her smile again. You’ll never wave off the worries of some well-meaning grandmother who doesn’t know what you do. You’ll never feel the tension in your own shoulders lessen as you watch her relax in the water.

Now she will never leave. 

This is the kind of wound that comes from loss. This is the kind of wound that comes from betrayal. This is the kind of wound that won’t mend. This is the kind of wound that turns me into a girl without trust. Turns me into a girl who takes too many risks, who screams at the ocean in the middle of a storm, who feels herself going numb from the cold and is relieved that she can no longer feel her limbs, can no longer prove to herself she’s still alive.

I could be a walking corpse for all that I can feel. Perhaps I am a walking storm. 

I watch Ella disappear under the water for what could be the first time or the last time or anywhere in between. I wasn’t ever worried, sure she would return to me, smiling the smile of having been in the sea. Of being where she always wants to be.

Now she will never leave.

The waves crash without thought for the rocks and the sand they are crashing upon. They don't think about the kids they are drowning, the families they are leaving with holes that will never be filled. They don't care that what they take away can never be given back.

You never think the things you love and trust can take from you everything you have. You don’t want to believe they can be as dangerous as people say. Because you think you know better, because you want to believe that you are lucky, that you are chosen, that you will thrive when everybody else who tried has died. 

You think that because you survived once, twice, half a million times you will always survive. It makes sense until it all breaks down and your world falls apart and you can never have the innocence of belief like that again. You can never trust like that again because the ocean has taken her.

Now she will never leave.