Water has a strange beauty in itself. Tangible yet elusive. Wave after wave, it will crash on the shore and pull the sand away from below. Beneath your feet, you would feel the sand shifting, the water tugging and swallowing it in.
I remember it clearly.. it was a bright afternoon. And the water was warm on the surface. Just lukewarm.
Inside, in the depths, it was cold. Cold and still. Almost stagnant.
Further down, it was dark and numb. But I could feel the water around me growing heavier.
I had tried pushing myself deeper and deeper. Watched the sunlight reflecting on the water above me, slowly fade away among the ripples.
And then I waited.
I dont know what I was waiting for. But I stayed there, looking at the dark seaweeds through my goggles and hearing the water moving beside me. Invisible waves hitting my body. Like damp wind. And slipping past.
It would have been barely a few minutes. But it had felt a long time. Infinite to measurement.
I could feel my legs kicking softly inside the water, yet there was no sound. It felt like water hitting water. The movements of my body felt fluid.
And then I had let go. As I shot up towards the sun, the sky, the air. I felt the emotions battling inside my mind, trying to take control. Breaking through the water surface, I looked up at the world above me. And gasped for the fresh blowing wind. The sun glared down at me while I smiled back at it.
Water was streaming down my face, there were seaweeds stuck in my hair. My goggles had become foggy. But the warm breeze felt amazing on my cold skin.
And it was then that I knew. What it feels like to be alive.