I used to have all these metaphors. I liked them. They were useful and just barely descriptive if someone was paying enough attention.
I lived on my tip-toes. Sometimes that wasn't enough. Usually, it seemed, that wasn't enough. I'm only so tall. Drowning is drowning, whether it's by an inch or a mile. I was constantly aware of that fact.
Usually, back then, it was waist deep. That was the average. Ostensibly safe, but too close for any type of real comfort. Rogue waves would overwhelm me, knock me down, all the time. Now, now it laps at my ankles. Not much at all, really, until I remember. Until I think about it too much. Like I'm doing tonight.
It only takes an inch to drown.
All I have to do is fall, and then I could drown. All I have to do is lie down, to rest, and then I could drown. A big enough wave, and I could drown.
Some people think I want to drown, to die. They're wrong. I want to live, but I'm not sure it's up to me. I'm at the mercy of the waves.
I'm in shock, still, after all this time. I'm just in shock. By all of it. Me. Her. Us.
Don't pity me. Learn from me. Run, at the first sign. It's not worth the risk.