Galaxies and Oceans

by N.R. Walker

Grief was like the great Southern Ocean; it moved in ebbs and flows, often turbulent and rough, or peaceful and settled, and even over time when I could navigate the waters, the tide never stopped.

It was as though he was the personification of this coast, this ocean. He was browns, blues, and greys, just like the scenery behind him, with a spark of life in his eyes but a sadness too. A little worn, rugged, weathered, but beautiful all the same.

“It’s not the ocean that bends and breaks. You think those rocks down there are unmovable and a solid force because the water crashes around them, but it’s the opposite. The ocean shapes them and breaks them down. It moves them, not the other way around. The ocean is a constant force of energy. It yields for nothing.”

“I don’t know what brought you to Hadley or why you chose to come here,” he said. “But I have a feeling you’ve come to the right place.” I looked into his eyes then, not sure what to say to that, and found his eyes were glassy. “The knots we get ourselves tied into,” he murmured, “seem to unravel here.” “Did it work for you?” I asked. He stared right back at me like he wasn’t sure if he should tell me the truth, if this game of tit for tat was worth the heartache. “Two weeks ago, I would’ve said no. But now, I’m not so sure.”

Trust the waters, Patrick. The ocean was mapped out from the stars.

I can’t have you in separate pieces, Patrick. The you that loved Scott is the same you that maybe wants to be with me. I want both versions of you, all of you. And if you have days when even thinking about him rips your heart out, then tell me. We’ll go down to the rocks and you can scream at the ocean for stealing him away.”

Tell him to stay another day, Patrick. It was strange how the voice of reason sounded a lot like Scott. Tell him to stay forever.

“Kind of like I’m lost at sea and you’re the lighthouse and safe harbour. I know when I’m with you, no one can hurt me.”

“And if you fall? I don’t want to be the reason you get hurt.” “It’s too late,” he murmured. “I’ve already fallen.”

Everything laid bare with nothing in between. Like the space between the ocean and the galaxies above it. Unimpeded, yet completely, unbearably impossible.

“May the stars forever guide us, and may this lighthouse bring us home.”