Water

Years of abstinence from swimming.
Phobia of water for three years.
Finally went back to swimming yesterday.
The moment I kicked off and started, evrything felt surreal. Similar yet foreign.
I have always had an undeniable love for water.
Being surrounded in a body of liquid and the manufactured currents gently brushing past you.
Not sure why but it brings me a world of security.
The same reason why I have a weird habit of sleeping on the floor whenever I feel unsafe. Or why I always glance behind when walking.
I like it when I sleep on the floor because at least I feel that something's got my back. Well that reveals much insecurity I guess... but it genuinely relaxes me.
My language is so tentative I dare not express a morsel of truth nowadays. Or do I?
I am not very sure of myself anymore.
I have a feeling this two to three weeks will be a major turning pt in my life.
Anyway back to water.
I really like swimming.
But the capsize made me fear it.
When I finally started swimming again yesterday, it was a little horrid. Flashes of light from the corner of my left eye. And I had the usual feeling of falling, just as I did during the capsize. That sinking feel in my heart.
My dad was on shore scrolling thru his phone. Supposedly watching over me.
Side note: he was quite nice to have bought me new goggles and a swim cap... perhaps ending his recent mean streak for a short intermission of caring wonder.
I looked well enough being able to swim twenty laps. My left arm felt like it was burning after. From the strain.
But movements do not reveal a person's insecurities. So no one would know how long I took to push away all those memories.
Then again, I deserve it. Consequences of my choices.
Given a choice, I wouldn't want to turn back time and reverse the choices made. Unlike most would wish for.
Life is too tiring for a second take. Much to strenuous.
I'm making the best of what I have now I hope.
I hope.
Not telling you guys about the interview or whatever because there would be no point anyway. Who wouldn't like someone to trust and confide in.
I do not have the luxury of that.
Only a void I have to admittedly seem accustomed to.
What of it? What am I accustomed to? 
Time after time. Your outbursts. My nagging. Your need for reassurance. My useless tries at protecting you from the blunders of destiny.
Why. We were a tragedy to begin with.
Definitely. The society's definition of a problem family would be one which is openly violent and preferably one where two parties are visibly divorced.
You fall short of this definition, you fall in the gray area of mental abuse, you get no protection nor any recognition of your strength.
On the other hand, you inflict more trouble on yourself than you need bear.
That I cannot help.
You must yourself break out of it.
Or pull me down to the depths of darkness with you.
I have always gauged how far inconsistencies in my life could differ from my expectations.
You cannot succumb to my calculations.
Neither would I to yours.
I'll give myself a year.
If I am tormenting you instead of helping, perhaps I should disappear.
I don't belong anywhere, do I?
It's a lying undercurrent of truth, which has recently shot up and splattered harshly in my face.
Much that I can see things from others' perspectives, my worldview is starkly different.
It didn't matter then. Why does it matter now.
Perhaps. I may be tired.
Do I have the right to fatigue. 
Who are you. What am I. What are we.
And this thing called time.
Ticking away, counting down to our heartbeats.
What is worth it.
What is painful for you I can only empathise.
We're in our computer games, just that we were programmed to meet each other.
Much too fragile. Human emotions. Unfounded and otherworldly.
A waste of the potential of reason.

Ah. The time. I must hurry and get this essay marked. Why is this person writing me a social commentary not an analysis.
Flabbergasted.

Okay I must be off.