Looking at the ocean normally brings me a sense of calm, and in that calm I typically find the answers to the questions I have, staring back at me. It’s almost as if the ocean has always given me the clarity to live the questions now.

But today the ocean makes me feel numb. That in between space where I want to be sad, but that little voice inside keeps telling me it’s going to be okay. The thought of putting diving on hold again seems so unfair, an empty promise.

What am I supposed to be learning here? …Patience? …Acceptance? …Forgiveness? It’s hard to see the reasons when one is blinded by anger, so I’m trying not to be angry. I’m trying to be like the ocean, strong. To go with the flow, to accept the possibility of some rocky storms, knowing that through them all the calm will eventually come. That the gentle ebb and flow of the tides will return, washing the past away, as if it all never happened.