He Was the Ocean

   I remember looking into his eyes so deeply and thinking the blue was going to spill out and take me into his ocean with waves so powerful they captivated anything they came across without a care in the world of what it might be. 

   He was the ocean- beautiful, daring and limitless -immune to the pain he caused.

   I remember the first time he looked at me and the rush of water that came with it, catching me completely off guard and knocking me over only to be caught by another wave coming from the opposite direction, leading me to my feet again.

   He convinced me I could lean on him because he would always be there to catch me with his reliable tides. 

   I remember the first time he looked at me and the rush of water that came with it, catching me completely off guard and knocking me over only to be caught by another wave coming from the opposite direction, leading me to my feet again.

   He convinced me I could lean on him because he would always be there to catch me with his reliable tides.

   I remember our first conversation and how both the sun and his words made me feel warm inside while the sound of his voice and his waves created a melody I could've listened to all day.

   He made me feel like the world, even though he was the world with an area taking up more surface than I would ever experience in my lifetime.

   I remember the love I felt for him and how very intense it was, growing larger and larger as his sea level rose, exposing me to new parts of him I couldn't wait to explore. 

   He led me into his abyss and told me not to worry or look back, that he would take care of me with his gentle touch. 

   I remember the subtle way his low tides turned to high tides and intensified his every move, causing more hurt than happy and destroying me a little more with every waking breath I took. 

   He never fought the moon and its darkness, he just let it pull and effect his body of water, which only pulled me deeper and deeper into his trenches. 

   I remember the first fight and the way his words cut so deep into my skin while he continued to crash his waves into me, knocking me over and not leading me to my feet with his reliable tides, but instead leaving me at the bottom of his ocean. 

   He let his salt water burn in the wounds that he created in my skin. 

   I remember praying for the surface of his water while I laid at the bottom feeling hopeless and empty, fearful of opening my mouth to scream because his waters would pour inside of me and make my lungs panic. 

   He would win if I let that happen. I couldn't let him win. 

   I remember our last conversation and the way his tides pulled me in and trapped me in his current which was nearly impossible to escape from.

   He finally let me go, but he would always take up 60% of my body. 

   I remember being younger and being so  afraid of the ocean but never understanding why... Until I met him. 

   He was the ocean.