Ports

I asked her (21 years old inspiration of mine who I recently met) if I could write something about her; reproduce her comparison/understanding of life. She just texted me back telling me I could. So here I am. Just reproducing her thoughts. 

There was lake next to the place I grew up. I didn't know what dirty and pure was. I didn't also know what good and bad was. I didn't recognize the bugs from flowers. I just enjoyed all that came. Like everybody else, I just went there every afternoon, taking a swim across, enjoying the weather and coming back home. 

I didn't ever pause to reflect why it was called the black lake. Neither I ever realized why some people often went missing or discontinued from the swim after sometime. I just continued enjoying the way I lived. 

But then, one day, I was taking a swim when I noticed a small injury. It grew big the next day. It kept itching. Like dirt accumulated, the patch dark and there. Few days later, I noticed another injury. 

Each injury slowed me. Bogged me. Gradually, it restrained my energy to swim the way others did. I sat on the shore, envying while the rest took the evening swim. Then, came along a doctor. He took my hand and led another lake. I told him I couldn't swim because of the injuries I had gotten. He insisted that I swim. 

Then, one day, giving into his insistence, I took the dip. I dipped and swam. It hurt and burned the injuries there. Each dip gave the sensation I detested. Each swim wasn't the dream swim I was used to once upon a time. Each minute, each second of it was terrible. Each rub plucked and made fun of my injuries. After a while of detesting and combating it, I gave in. I let the pure crystals of the water hit each wound. Each of it. One by one. I let the warm rays of sun burn through. I let it happen. And then, I was healed. The wounds disappeared. People think I am a fool rejoicing the fresh water lake swim which caused so much pain to my wounds. 

I just sit there and smile. Because The joy of swimming in the fresh water lake can never be understood, it can only be felt. Because you can see the wounds caught from the pettiness disappearing; one by one releasing in the fresh water lake like heavy ships release its accumulated metal dirt in fresh water ports.