One second I was floating on a soft mattress of ocean, the next I was plunged toward the sand paper shore. Scraped across the bottom like a log too rough to be sold. There was no warning, no sign of impending crisis, no preparations were made, I was just gone. I could feel the burn of the water as it hit my eyes, there was no time to close them and when the water connected with my retinas it felt like the sea had transformed into fire. As if I might never see again. My head was forced underwater and I could feel the salty ocean water in my lungs and it burned every surface on the way down making my nose feel like snorting razor blades. When I resurfaced I coughed out as much as I could, could feel the ocean exit my lungs, and could feel the saltwater on my lips causing them to shrivel from the salt, my stomach now capable of being it’s own ocean. But I was ok, I rose out of the water like a warrior after battle and walked away unscathed. Maybe I had a few scrapes or bruises, but don’t be dramatic I would say to myself, it could have been worse. At least my stomach was gorged in seawater and not on my own blood at least the lips that were pursed by salt were not cracked and bloodied, at least I could still use them to speak freely. I am lucky. At least my eyes can still see clearly, at least they have not become blind to the world around them. At least my lungs still grasped for each breath and moved on to the next. At least I am alive. Yes I may have some scrapes or bruises, but what is life without them? You never know when another wave is coming for you, when you’ll be taken by surprise, life comes and goes like the rising and falling of the tides. So when the time comes, enjoy the ride, and be proud of what you’re leaving behind.