From the River to the Ocean.


26th June. 4.30am.
Finally. Time to escape. Let go. Free myself from what had been haunting my mind for the past few days. But from the second I silently leave my hotel I know I will not find what I seeked: clarity. Mist from the ocean is all I see.

The past two days, I kept it suffocated. Somehow. No-one was to know. These were supposed to be happy days. Smiles and appreciation was delivered deservingly to those who tried to make my birthday special; my family.

The music from the carousel. It resounds in my mind. Haunts me. I have used it for these days, used it to drown my mind. Anyone who interrupts, I reply coldly, sharply. I despise myself for this. I wonder how I can be so self-centred? I despise the fact that I can no longer appreciate what I have. I cannot make the most of this beautiful place. Time with family for which I had longed for. I’ve ruined. I’m not sure if they noticed. I pray to God they didn’t.

Finally alone. But my body choses not to let go. It seems, I have locked my feelings somewhere deep inside me, where they will remain for a very long time.

My walk to the river in the city makes sense to me now. By that time the cold blade had already been pierced through my body by the only one I believed would protect me in this world. I just didn’t know it then. But my god I can feel it today.

I walk. I wish to find the most beautiful place on the seafront in hope that watching the sunrise may help. I am naïve. Naivety, the reason I am searching here. I soon see this is a party place. I would not find peace here.

A young Somalian man leaves a club. Walks next to me. Talks to me. I pretend like I don’t hear him, my headphones are on. I move to the pebbles, remove a headphone so I can hear if he follows. Think he feels bad: “Walk on the pavement and I’ll walk in the opposite direction”. I do not answer but I choose to walk on the pavement. Naïve again. He does not change direction. A deep sinking feeling suddenly reaches my chest. I realise this simple brief encounter with this man of which I had not even exchanged words revealed my flaw which caused my pain. I never learn.

Back to the pebbles. It’s where I’d intended to go in the first place. I always wonder why people throw pebbles into the ocean. What does it solve? Will my questions be answered? I have many questions now.

I throw one pebble. Two. Three. Nothing. How many must I throw? Four. Five. Six. Nothing.
When will I begin to feel something?!. Standing here I ask myself what I expect from this. Do I expect the waves from the ocean to suddenly wash away my pain? Naivety. It’s stupid. I’m stupid. I let a breath escape me as though I’m about to laugh at the prospect. Am I facing reality? Or is my mind just that far from serenity?

Anger takes over. Upset. Like a child I sulk because I don’t have what I wanted. I don’t understand why. The sea was beautiful. But it did not help me.

I’ve walked far now. It’s coming up to 6am. Through the gates working on the closed pier asks me what I’m doing with a pen and notepad at this time. I lie. “Oh I’m just a freelance journalist, from London, just writing a feature about what Brighton is like compared to the city”. I see the potential to ask him to let me on to the pier. Something stops me.

I walk back to the old, burnt out pier. It’s remains are delicate. I stay. I watch the sunrise.

12pm.
The blade is very slowly being twisted inside of me.
I just want it to be over with. Like a bullet. Dragging it out only hurts more.
I now know what has happened to me, but I sense I am about to be left alone to deal with it. I can hear it in his voice. My protector has left. He will not be here to help me. Hope remains. And I refuse to extinguish it. No matter what the world says.

I lay on the pebbles. I’ve never been so thankful for sunglasses. Not because the sun is brighter than I’ve seen it to be. But because they cover the tears streaming uncontrollably down my face I manage to lie still and silent. I say I don’t want any lunch: “ I just want to lie in the sun”. I say. Smile. This buys me time alone. I remember tomorrow too is supposed be a happy day. I realise the worst is not yet over.

1 week later. Back home.

This will not go away. It does not get any easier. The pieces of the puzzle I hold are placed together now. But the picture is incomplete. Someone holds the last pieces. But they refuse to give them to me. My questions remains unanswered. I can’t work out what the picture is. What do I do?

Perhaps I am being selfish here. I know I am. And please I beg of you to believe me when I say I’m really sorry. I am trying to understand. But I can’t help but feel deserted. The only one who can help me now, give me answers, is too busy. I will understand. I just want to know why so that I can at least try to move on with my life.

5am. I dread the moment I fall asleep. I know exactly what will happen. I will wake, and for a slight moment I will feel okay. It only lasts a second or two. But then it hits. And My God it hits hard. It is that moment of peace that torments me the most. It is nothing but a farce! There is no real peace here! Not yet. But I will remain patient. I will wait, and I will pray. It is not the answers I am terrified of, but the fear that I will never have them.

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