To Have Ears That HearMature

I found out recently that when I was younger, my swimming instructor thought I could be competitive. I was good. Really good.

But I had ear infections. Horrible things that would leave me with headaches, and it seriously deteriorated my hearing. It was also incredibly, indescribably painful. I'd wake up in the middle of the night screaming at the agony.

I taught myself how to lip read. I learned to observe and copy what other people were doing. I got through.

But I couldn't swim. The infections left my ears with reduced hearing and sensitive eardrums. The pressure of water hurt so much I cried the first time. I cried because of the pain and the love I'd lost.

The feeling of water around me was an amazing experience, gliding on the bottom of the pool with the tile brushing against my stomach, pointing my fingers in front of me and breathing out slowly. And when I lost my momentum, I rose and propelled myself forwards with my arms, pushing back with flattened palms, outstretched arms repeating the strange underwater dance again and again.

I was happier as part fish than I ever was as fully human.

And now it's gone.

My dad said that I used to have the potential.

I used to.

Now I'm left unable live in the element that made me feel whole.

The End

0 comments about this work Feed