Today my friends went to the disco. Today I was left wondering what happened to my invitation. Today I realised that they are not my friends. So, instead, today I went to the beach. I’ve always been unlucky when it comes to friends, many times resorting to my own company. I have many speeches about love and loneliness, as I’ve had much time to think about it. These speeches stay with me… for I have nobody to give them to. Sharing is hard, when you have nobody to care for…
However, there’s always been one friend there for me, no matter what. One friend who is more blue and graceful than any other: The Ocean, The Foyle, but my favourite of all the names which it were called, The Blue…
The Blue was like a deep, beautiful woman. Many times on the beach, I’d imagine her walk elegantly out of the shallows and sit beside me on the rocks. We’d both stare into the distance talking about anything. She was understanding and gentle, and she’d speak with an experienced tone, like what she said, she knew was true. I never doubted her once. Both of us, in blue, silk robes and wings, we’d sit on rocks with our feet in the shallows. Both basking under the springtime Sun, a bendy straw in something tropical, we’d wistfully discuss the little things in life.
“Little things” she’d say, “are the things that mean the most.” And she’d point out how she knew I was blue every time I came to visit. She’d always cheer me up
though.
The distance was just as green as the grass and trees around us. Her hair was long and a glassy teal, like the lough on a cloudy day. As much as we’d laugh about the pure trivia of life, we’d often comfort each other while in a sad mood. We both missed something we knew didn’t exist, we missed what we didn’t have yet. She was the only person who would tell me,
“The key to happiness, is to stop wanting.” Yet, we wanted to stop wanting. Both of us knew that it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.
People are too often sad that they are not in love, or near it. Romance was something neither me nor The Blue considered ourselves capable of, but we both knew, platonic love is equally as valuable as romance, equally as fulfilling and euphoric. It was that love which we shared. Every time I was sad, or distressed, I’d run. Shoes on, or off, I’d run to the beach and call out for her. She never failed me.
One thing we’d find in each other was momentary bliss. We promised not to forget a single word each other said.
One day, The Blue tried to explain to me she had to leave. I couldn’t understand, but I did not stand in her way. The Blue was gone, and without her warmth, was the iciest winter I’d ever known. With troubles in life, with wounds, I thought I couldn’t make it without her. There I was on the pier, ready to end it all. I was about to let myself fall in, until I remembered what she said before she left, “In times of cold, be The Fire that thaws the ice…” And then it made sense.
This summer I sit on the beach, with a tropical drink in hand, I’m The Fire, The Red… Although she’s far off now talking to someone else who needs her, I raise a glass or two, to you… The Blue.