I sit on the sand and look at the ocean waves. I like their repetitive patterns. I like their loud breathing and noisy manner to collapse their exhausted bodies that crossed the whole world to arrive from another continent’s shore. If you live next to the ocean the waves’ singing can be your friend and your lullaby as their rhythmic uproar is soothing and reassuring. Everything comes, everything goes, and everything comes again.
Every wave greets the beach licking it like a newly adopted puppy dog, and the sand greedily sucks in the rests of the ocean’s salty saliva. “We met, and now it’s time to say goodbye, we’re going back. Someone is waiting for us on the other side.”
“Who can be better than me?” the sand seems to ask. “What can be softer than my tender hug? There are rocks on the other side that cut you in half and laugh at your breaking into a thousand tiny tears. Why do you keep returning to someone who you know will hurt you?”
“They don’t laugh, those rocks, they cry. And they need us the same way you do. That’s why we come back to them as we come back to you.”
I sit on the sand with my eyes closed. There are so many stories the waves can tell you if you listen to their wordless tune.