A Sunken Ship

I remember it so clearly, yet there was no specific point in time when it happened.

“Captain! We’ve been hit,” was ringing in my ears.

It was then that the realization that there was a hole in my ship occurred. Not an unexpected flaw, but a planned flaw. Like a plug on a timer that finally ran its course, but I hadn’t prepared properly. I should’ve seen land by now but I took the scenic route full of rum and sun bathing.

The descent was the worst part. I lived with the knowledge that it was sinking but continued with rum & sunbathing because I’d rather be blissfully ignorant than soberingly aware.

Some of the crew prepared, but some just did the same as me. The parties continued and the music was even louder yet at the end of the night, before heading to our chambers, there’d be a moment of rare silence and I’d think out loud, “I can’t believe we’re going down,” with a grumbled nod from the others.

As the ship got lower, we began to realize the severity so we made our various plans. One by one the lifeboats came and whisked us away to different locations.

I remember when mine came. In a matter of hours the ship would be completely submerged and I’m not foolish enough to stay on that long. So I got in my boat and stared at the horizon as I watched the very tip of my home disappear.

I remember the tears. I felt foolish for crying because this was the plan all along but I never realized how much I would end up loving my ship. It felt like leaving a bit of my soul behind and I didn’t even have a crew to mourn with. It was just me and I had to figure out what my next steps were.

I finally get on land and another realization hits that I need a new plan. I’m not a captain anymore, I have no crew. So I pull myself up by my bootstraps and forge on. It feels cold and it feels desolate but I have no choice because there’s nothing to go back to.

So I found my way and joined a new crew. Not a captain by any means, but this ship is much larger and requires a whole new set of skills that I’m still learning. It’s different here but it’s really growing on me.  

With each passing day I become more integrated with my new home but at night when I’m by myself, I think about the old crew and the life I used to lead. I stare out at the horizon and imagine us cruising by without a care in the world, the jolliest bunch of bastards you’ve ever seen.