Brief Seven

Water

I don’t know what my real name means. Probably nothing. But it should have meant water. Better yet, they should have called me Water. There are people called River, so it wouldn’t have been that extraordinary. And it would have suited me perfectly.

I am water. I am in constant motion. I am unstable and can jump from one state of existence into another in matter of minutes. I adapt. I take the shape of whatever vessel I’m in and yet as soon as that vessel breaks apart, I spill out unable to hold myself together. I erode everything I run over. I flood and drown. I wet and ruin. Most of all, I cannot stay confined. As soon as I find the tiniest crack, I leak out.

So why am I surprised looking back on my life and realizing the mind-blowing vastness of wastelands I’ve left behind. Everything I touched I turned to dust. Everyone I loved I drowned. And then I ran. I ran to find a new place to flood and ruin, a new soul to embrace in my cool, fluid oblivion. Swim at your own risk.

Maybe it’s because I am so much like water that my life has revolved around it all this time. I was born near water, had a near drowning experience when I was three, learned to swim right after and water has been with me ever since. It’s in my lungs, it’s in my blood, it’s over 70% of me. It is me. I have always lived near it and every time I run to a new place, it’s a place near water. If I was a betting man, I’d put all my money on me dying in it, dying from it, because of it. That would serve me right. It would be the perfect ending of a not-so-perfect, watery life.

I left Jamie by the water and never saw her again. Jamie with the blond hair and blue eyes. Jamie with the cute little nose which curved up ever so slightly. Jamie with the glasses. Jamie with the plump full lips which I never got to kiss. Jamie with the weak heart I never knew about. Water doesn’t need to know what’s holding it together, just that it does. Water doesn’t need to know that it’s too much for the vessel it’s in and that it’s faulty and that it is about to crack open and spill water all over the place. Water was boiling and gurgling all the while Jamie was skipping heartbeats. Water boiled over.

The day was perfect. The sun scorched our bodies but there was the water we could jump into and cool off. Then we lay on the sand under the palm trees and we talked and we talked. And we laughed. And we teased. And she told me about her big plans for the future. And she forgot to tell me about the gentle, little heart of hers which wasn’t pulling its own weight. Was Jamie thirsty that night? Did she want water in her room on her bedside table? But it’d get everything all wet and messy. Water chickened out, found a crack and leaked out. Water didn’t want to drown Jamie.

In the evening a cool breeze blew in from the water. Dark clouds approached. It was getting chilly. Little drops of water began falling from the sky. It was time to go. I got up and walked away and left Jamie by the water.