The Curse Of Water

The Curse Of Water

Seeming as though I am irrevocably lost, I immediately fell in love with a house in Georgia that’s quite a distance between its red entry door and the ocean. I've decided that I don’t need something beachfront, and I certainly don’t need to live in a place with pristine sand that boasts the full spectrum of blues that seem to unceasingly kiss the weather-worn shore.
Nevermind all the footprints that have been washed away over time. What a perfect picture of solitude. And forgetting.
I'm currently amidst a large metropolis filled with concrete parking structures, high rise buildings, and noise. At one point, in my formative years, I thought I wanted to spend my adult life in an urban area, but now that I’ve lived in a major city a few times over I find myself longing for a coastline. With the ocean comes a loneliness that only those who’ve been abandoned can appreciate. The rough waters remind me that I will never be at home no matter how mature I’ve become or whom I choose to take along for the ride. When I think of the coast I am reminded of my own desperation to look out upon a truly wild landscape, the rushing and angry waves are ever-changing, unpredictable. Eventually, I have to give up my delusions and resign myself to the fact that I can't manipulate the movement of water.
In my mind, the only thing I’ve ever faced that I cannot alter with my own will is the Sea. Somehow the only things we want to hold within our hands are the very things we so fervently, and yet so impossibly, try to grasp.

-Excerpt from The Curse of Water from 'The Long Road - A Collection of Short Stories' by Aspen Sorensen

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