Dangerous, stormy waters.

Sharks.

And the likelihood of drowning.

But you still press onward, surfboard held above your head.

You have a goal.

Tired fingers curled around the board,

water circling around two legs,

hair sailing in the wind, 

Face cracked with salt water. 

Are you scared?

At the same time you can feel your feet buried in the sand, the waves will still knock you over but your board lifts you up with a consistent force,

Only if you hold on.

Such is life.

For once you are in control of something in your life;

You are no longer guided by storms and swells of homework

Or torments of peers who would love to see you drown so they can float,

Or the constant bubble you feel in your throat when you think of your best friend's suicide

And the depression and anxiety that came with it.

Paddle onward, mark your spot,

Search the sea and seize it.

A wave approaches, growing bigger and bigger.

Just like all of the problems in your head you decided to leave there instead of talk about.

Turned around, arms plunging deep, grabbing at water, legs kicking.

It's a fight.

To be lifted by one wave or the alternative of sinking below it. 

Arms tired from paddling, problems weighing down, saltwater splashing or tears running down,

Keep paddling.

Life is not a place to stop and rest.

Board shoots out like a missile, waves bursting behind, legs standing.

Balance.

Smiling face, saltwater waves crashing far behind, and you rise above it all. 

Life is good.

Life is awesome.