Sup3rnality

I remember late into many nights in a pair of years gone, questions passed between us like the little messages we exchange in class. It begins at a rate slow, wondering over what ifs and maybes. And then we delve deeper, principles questioned, beliefs laid out bare, and we scour the hidden recesses of what we keep deep.

Many a night, we played this out. Our two trading questions in the night, answers never wavering, as though we were testing the waters through our words. Always expecting the unblemished surface to smoothen with time. While we go exploring new depths without being submerged.

Then time passes on. And we find that there are so many things that come and go with the tide. I'd tell you, eyes wide, surprised at my own audacity, how there are things that can never be denied. With all sense that keeps on leaving, my answers change; oh, the fickle tide.

And yet, it is long til we find ourselves in this place and time, when the still depths would go rippled, when the air would be disturbed by our heaving breaths and rapidly beating hearts as we jump off this ramp, and say goodbye to the leaving ship. It takes too long, but then, so quick a time.

At some point, we left this path. On the same road we travel, but with different strides, different minds, different walks. But in time, we find the water, one after the other, and take a chance in leaping into the deep end. With passion, we change the stir up the face of the body of water.

You can never step into the same river twice. Yet we make a path through it anyway.
Regardless of the fact we can never retrace our steps. Even if we spilled breadcrumbs, they'd be washed away.

And then we are not the people we were. Out of the water and into the breeze, hair dripping, skin wet, water trailing where our clothes were soaked. We have broken the water's calm, breathed in water to our lungs, and tasted fear as we flailed for a while fearing we'd drown.

Now we walk on. Walk on. We're not the people we were. We left some part of us behind when we reached the banks on the other side. They must've sunken to the bottom, amongst the rocks and the sandy depths.

And we don't mind.

And questions, now? Well, they are rhetorical.

Love, Linzy~