Over these past few years I had become very fond of the deep blue ocean. I had come to have known this ocean to be an integral part of my inner being. This ocean has shared in my most secret of thoughts, my most daunting of dreams and in the depths of my pain. I used to believe that if you threw a penny into the ocean you could bet with almost certainty that it would never see the light of day again. That penny would forever be engraved amidst the sand waiting to serve well as its graven tombstone. There was a time when I thought love wasn’t any different. I thought that love was universal in all human beings and when our love for one another became so strong and such an essential part of our minds, souls, and hearts that it became as one with the flesh, almost human-like.
There are some that only rest upon the shore, and then there are those that are bold, so very bold that they dare to venture farther out to sea letting their instinct help them along the way. They have the least fear of drowning, for the journey would be worth dying for. They do not know where they are going or how long it will take to get there, but this does not matter to them, for they can hold steadfast to the knowledge that they do know they are going somewhere, they know that there is a horizon somewhere off into the distance.
Dark blue waves lathered like foam upon the white beach as I sat cross-legged upon the creaking wooden docks. The wind danced around my curvature twirling and whirling then whistling out into the gaping ocean whereupon my gaze fell.
I took my black journal and a pen out from my backpack. I flipped through the pages blotted with little scribbles and notes I had made until I stumbled upon a fresh blank sheet. Then I let my mind drift off into a wondrous sleep.
I wrote down what I saw:
August 3, 2009
The sun burned into spitting ashes
Laying upon the deep blue ocean
My eyes cast a downward glance
Dark shadows cried upon my lap
I knew you had to leave me
But why did you have to take
My tears with you, tears that could
Have been saved by being honesty
By Charlene M. Dawson
I sighed heavily then unfolded my legs and began to walk home, docks creaking at every silent step. I was sad from having to leave the ocean, but I knew I would return. I knew that the ocean would never leave me, if only love were that simple.
As I walked up the wooden steps to the place I was supposed to call home, the light aroma of cooking salmon and onions filled my nostrils. I quietly opened the door and walked inside, sitting down upon one of the wooden beige stools.
Dad was hunched over the stove turning salmon over on a skillet, scraping lemon shavings, adding pepper, and sprinkling chopped onions upon it. My dad took cooking, like most everything else, very seriously. It was his passion.
He would always tell me, “Cooking is an art; real artists know how to prepare a meal as simple as drawing stick figures upon a simple white sheet of paper, and make it taste as good as the Mona Lisa on canvas.”
I never would question his wisdom on the subject, not when he could cook as well as he could.
My stomach growled.
My dad looked up from the salmon, eye brows raised with amusement, “You sound as if you have just swallowed a lion whole that is licking his wounds but the hyena still won’t leave it alone.”
I rolled my eyes and said, “I didn’t eat too much food today, been too busy.”
“Busy doing what,” snapped my mother now walking into the kitchen. “What could you have possibly been doing that could qualify as being busy?”
——————————————————————————————-
Basically about a teenage girl who grows up in a dysfunctional family while dealing with personal issues of her own, the loss of her boyfriend, she writes in her diary now and then of what she sees during defining moments.
Make a long story short no pun intended:
Dad-loving, understand, loves to cook, fun, close with a daughter, cheating on mother,
mother-stingy, strict, depressed, jealous, angry
Mother is mad with daughter because she is 18 did not graduate from her highschool just sits and writes poetry. Father tries to defend his daughter from her mother but she discovers that he has indeed been cheating on her with another woman, she becomes even more depressed, then takes this anger out on daughter who is grieving over the loss of her boyfriend. etc…more to it but this is what I have so far.
sorry for the lack luster typing, just getting the main idea out there…
I based this story by taking my love of writing poetry, and history of depression and applying that to Charlene, (main character) while taking the mother who was just like my mother, but shes fine now we get along, I got my diploma, through HPE, anyway, and my dad well was supportive, so this is based upon a true story that happened to me. Dedicating it to my girlfriend whose name
