Changing directions

Prompt: A moment in my life that I found peace in, that didn't spawn from joy.

There is a warmth coming from above. I make my way to the front of the ship, the only seating that isn't surrounded by walls and glass. Sitting in a crowd full of people, I have never felt more alone. The seagulls dive to water and pass overhead and with each rise of a wave I sink into this haze of thoughts, almost hypnotized. Watching as the moving water catches reflections of the sun, in each fleck of gold all I can see is a deep green that eventually fades into black. The cool air turns cold as I remember a man describing the temperature of the water this time of the year. If the initial shock of the water doesn't cause your muscles to lock up, the following hypothermia will do all the damage it needs to. I think about dreaming. I dream about sleep. Wondering what the darkness is like, I rub my hands together. I feel the heat of my own body and consider the idea of never experiencing another sunset, or sunrise. Is no longer having to deal with the struggles and worries of daily living worth giving up the happy moments that make living worthwhile?

A short trip, less than thirty minutes, feels like hours. How many times can someone make the trip to this lonely island and not lose a little happiness somewhere in these waters. It's so hard to leave life at the door and leave work, at work when coming and going is such a chore. The idea of going to work, is work and only compiles the depression I already feel about my current state. When your job is to look after people that society deems "unfit" to live in the general population, you can't really go to work cheery. Imagine a wall of clouds, dark and thundering, as if waiting behind a wall of glass. That is what it's like for people sometimes. They're in a situation that they know they have to cross a line, go to a place that isn't positive for any reason other than it give society comfort and hope to walk out the same way they walked in. Some places are just no good.

Sprays of water touch my face and realize that the ride is coming to an end. People begin to gather up their belongings and wrap up their conversations, but I haven't set anything down. I haven't spoken to anyone. Sometimes I feel like I'm trapped inside of my own head. I get so wrapped up in my thoughts that I have to pull myself out sometimes. I take a final look around, one last sweep of the sun and the water before I walk into the clouds. I look down at the water into the darkness. Hearing the water now hitting the rocks, a lullaby in disguise. Walking down the ramp, back onto solid ground I reflected on everything that just passed through my mind. I could never take things to that level, but in that moment, as content as I was with the idea of letting everything go, I'd rather see the sun rise.