Colors of the Heart

The fog that thicketed the ocean rolled in thick layers off the shore, creating a surreal setting. Watching from the balcony, I knew what lay beyond, the same buildings I had stared at for almost a year, yet it felt like someone had stuck me in a different world. 

I heard the lapping of the water, and the cries of the gulls that circled above the balcony as I chugged down a lukewarm soda, the carbonated fizz tingling my mouth. 

My body sagged into the cheap lawn chair from Walmart, the weight of the world sinking me further in. 

Are you happy now? A quiet voice spoke in my head. 

“No. You should know this.”

I wanted to hear you say it. 

“Asshole..”. 

The birds mocked me. Look at how high we fly, watch us soar freely. The ocean jeered and laughed. Look at where I can go. Look at what I can be. 

I wanted to scream out, have them leave me alone. It would be useless though, a waste of oxygen, of a deep and chilling breath. 

Of a breath that I didn’t feel I deserved. 

Dragging heavy limbs inside, where the brightly illuminated kitchen light cast shadows onto the gray walls, I grabbed for some leftovers in the fridge and the TV controller. Even scrolling for something to watch felt like a task. 

All the shows that popped up on my Netflix account I couldn’t look at, so I continued past, going on like that for an hour. Eventually I just clicked on something random, just for background noise. Just for something else besides my own thoughts. 

He was always in the back of my mind now, playing on repeat, spinning over and over, a record with no end. He had left his scent on everything I owned, fainter now, but still clearly there. Every time I tried to pry my thoughts away from him, they scurried right back until it became such a task that I let myself finally indulge. 

It was a selfish thing to do. I had no right to these feelings, not when they were supposed to belong to someone else. 

Through the paper walls, the sounds of life on the other side seeped through. Laughter and music, voices raising in excitement and joy. Footsteps pitter pattering back and forth, an occasional thud.  

The humming of a cicada somewhere in the distance was the most annoying of them all. A low vibration that made my head split from its very center. Part of me wanted to find it, end the sound. 

Instead, I got up and shut the window, cutting off most of the noise. 

Most of it. 

I felt the dread and anxiety and the depression coil around the pit of my stomach, a viper ready to attack. It made me physically ill, and I had to close my eyes in order to stop from retching.

What had I done? Who had I become? I was someone I didn’t recognize, yet still wearing the same face, a mask. I was trying to fool myself the whole time. Yes, I was the one being fooled, and also becoming a fool.

I checked my phone, hoping for a message, but the screen was empty of messages, save for an alert for Facebook notifications. I clicked on it anyways and scrolled through ads, the occasional rant, and lots of animal videos. At least it served as a brief distraction, however small, it was welcomed. 

Time seemed to crawl along, but when I looked at the clock, several hours had already flown by without my knowledge. I felt weak, I felt hollow, as if termites had eaten away my insides and now I was a rotten tree, ready to fall and whither away, claimed once again by the earth. 

My body rolled off the coach, and my legs started moving on their own, towards the door. My hand grasped the knob, the metal colder than normal, and slowly turned it, walking out into the night. 

That’s right, go. You’ve caused enough damage. 

The sea breeze whipped against my back, pushing me closer and closer to the edge, coaxing me to my demise. Yet it was comforting, a warm lullaby leading me towards a silent sleep, a promise of peace.

It felt cowardly, but I was a coward. I wanted to forget myself, to stop the onslaught of turmoil inside stronger than the current. 

A cold, gritty feeling hit the bare skin of my feet, which I recognized faintly as the sand and rocks of the beach. It crunched and squished underneath, wedging itself in between each of my toes. The rocks were sharp, but the pain quickly subsided after each step. 

Closer and closer, inch by inch, my body moved closer to the water, until it was lapping over my feet, the salt stinging the small open cuts. 

I went to take a step, waiting to sink into the sand below, but when that feeling didn’t come, I glanced down to find my foot resting atop the water, ripples forming around it. All I could do for a second was stare, mouth gaping as it continued to rest there, not moving. 

Gently I raised my other foot, and placed it a step farther. The same thing happened. I was walking on water. 

Fog started to rapidly rise in thick blankets , swirling and dancing around me, until everything clouded over and all that could be visible was snuffed out. The fog was a sentient being, overwhelming anything that it touched. 

I stretched out my hand, and that too was swallowed whole.

What is going on? 

Despite the circumstance, despite the cold chill running down my spine, I wasn’t the least bit terrified. It was hard to tell where this feeling of calm came from, but my intuition was saying that everything would be alright. 

That’s when the fog parted, and a silhouette appeared, almost visible but not quite. 

“I know why you are here. I know your heart. You are hurting, but it will be okay. You will make it through.” 

I blinked. “How are you sure?” 

“I’ve seen every second of your life, have known every thought. I know you will get through this. You're not alone. I know the people in your life and  have placed them there. Cherish them and appreciate the gifts you have been given. Look towards the light, and do not hide in the darkness, for even though there will be darkness, light always pierces through.” 

“Who are you?”

It was hard to tell, but the silhouette seemed to smile.

“An old friend.”

Suddenly the shadow faded, and the fog dissipated within seconds, leaving a clear skyline of buildings and the lighthouse flickering in the distance. I was back on the shore, feet once again planted in the sand.

Out of curiosity, I placed one step out on the water, but this time I sank. I looked out at the ocean, wondering if it had all been just a dream. Still, those words rang in my ear, the voice clear as the air. It felt familiar, a voice I recognized in the back of my mind. Taking a deep, salty breath, and letting the air fill my lungs, I finally felt a little better. I was still scared, but I knew I had to go on.

“So, what now?”