I feel like I'm in the middle of the ocean. The cold, bitter ocean. Alone. I see ships pass by and planes fly over and I call out. But no one hears me. No one stops to help me. I'm trying--really hard to stay afloat. I'm viciously kicking in the water. I'm flailing, desperately just trying to survive.
I'm going under. Sinking below the surface deeper into the waters below. It's dark and it's freezing and I'm alone.
I'm gasping for air and my lungs are filling with water. I'm exhausted. I can't swim anymore. My legs are weak and my muscles are sore. Every movement feels like my limbs are burning from the inside out. I manage to get a few breaths of air but continue to slowly fail again and again. I sink deeper after every breath. After every moment of air I fall deeper yet again. No matter what I do; this only gets worse.
The land lies on the horizon. Too far out of reach. Land is for those who managed to seek rescue or for those who never had to drown at all. Even if I swam for the rest of my life-- I know I would never make it there. Land is not what I'm meant for.
I'm meant to drown. Alone. I am going to go under, out here, alone. The ocean will consume me and I will become just another sunken ship. Just another body that will never be found. A death never solved. Answers will be derived from what I left behind but no one will fully know.
No one will know that I just couldn't swim anymore. That I was just too tired. My body hurt too much. And the pain only grew as the days when on. Waves constantly knocked me away from the land. Farther and farther out of my reach despite my constant strides towards it.
Eventually, I just gave up. I couldn't do it anymore.
I was never too good of a swimmer.
And I never will be.