There is beauty in the silence of transition. While the waves pull themselves back in half a millisecond, waiting for the next seismic shock to pulse beneath the earth and cause a chain reaction. The almost-passing wave lingers in the in-between, its beauty of stored joy and stillness completely contrasting the human pain festering in corners like a disease. Too often in life have I felt the highs and lows of being so provocatively human.  

To show arrogance and pride, only to sink all the way down to my doom. 

But in the same way heartache sings its low lullaby to the sea, I have splashed my waves of happiness against the sand with my laughter and positivity shining through the edges of my soul. 

I do not tell anyone of the pain I call growth. I attach many labels to it, debating whether or not it’s self-sabotage or running away. I watch it wash away with the damp sand, but I never tell a soul. Today’s ocean-side thought is the feeling of knowing you’re no longer the same and nothing can change it. I call it the pain of transition or maybe a fear. The fear of everything you once knew wasting away to a whisper.  

The waves in front of me crash into debilitating blues, it blends together – forming a mosaic of sea moss, creatures, and a home to every human that seeks to visit. With each person splashing happily in the water – I wonder whose feet have lain on the grounds I call home. What kind of people have cried in the places I’ve laughed?  And is there a means to measure the emotions one can feel in the entire span of their life? 

The ocean may not be a conversible being, but I think that it too wonders. It may not know of the ideas I’ve spun into its heart, and it may not even care that I’ve said all these words.  But I know it holds all the energy of laughter and happiness in its sand. I know it stares at the couples falling in love and I know it wonders why I’ve been here all day. The sun shines down on me while the wind bristles through my hair; a child of the universe, the starchild of nature – is sad again. 

Through the hailing storm, I’ve found myself sitting on the same bench, pondering all different kinds of thoughts; never really knowing which were “good” or “bad.” But I hope that through all these periods of change, of me realizing that the festering pain can take over the happiness – the ocean believes.  Believes that this is just another period of transition and I will get back up again. 

That I am the girl with a heart of gold and laughter that rivals the glow of the sun.  

Despite my mosaically broken heart, hearing the waves crashing onto shore tells me one thing: through every ending, something new, something more beautiful, gets the chance to be born.