A Love Letter to Water

I am reading Melon's 316-page "Conquer Your Fear of Water" swim manual to prepare for my novice swim class in Orlando, FL (of all places). One of the prep exercises involves writing a letter to Water, to dish out my "feelings" towards it, to have a "dialogue". The samples from previous students were impressively honest, elaborate and sincere, compelling me to sit down for some romantic soul searching. Sorry if the following confession gives you the goose bumps.

Dear Water,

After running away from you for the past nine years I have once again summoned the courage to face you and give our relationship another chance.

Our on-and-off affair has been tumultuous and painful for me, both physically and emotionally. All the gut bleaching and water in the nose was living hell. I felt humiliated and remain emotionally scarred. I doubt if you understand how I have suffered, because our relationship has been so imbalanced – you have had all the power from the very beginning, and I could only go along with your rules. It is choking.

I wanted to trust you and get close to you. Deep down I have always felt that you are The One I have been looking for all my life. Tennis is attractive and captivating, but he could be demanding. Skiing and I had a passionate affair, but we tragically grew apart due to distance. Hiking is elegant and easy-going but we never had real chemistry. I have been with Bikram Yoga for over ten years now. It is a convenient and comfortable but half-hearted relationship, kept alive by necessity (good health), and not unlike flossing / brushing my teeth – done out of habit rather than motivated by feelings.

Trust and love take time to develop, and I hadn’t had this luxury. There were too many distractions between us and too much pressure to hurry. When I was seven my dad said he would support me if I let go of my float, but in five seconds he dropped me. Kevin, my swim coach in college, wanted me to tread across the pool in the first class. I knew I wouldn’t make it but courageously tried, creating a memorable spectacle for everyone. Later I traveled around the world to try approaching you, to start our relationship anew, but time and again those instructors who were supposed to teach me to love you only pulled me away from you.

Yet over all these years I have never forgotten you. I feel incomplete without you, especially because I am a fish. I think of you from time to time, imagining how wonderful it would be to be enveloped by you, to be totally at ease with you, to let you sooth and cradle my back and neck, sore from too much surfing (virtual, of course).

So I am buying us the luxury of time via a full week of swim camp to the tune of $2,500, to give our relationship a fresh chance. Money can't buy you love, but it can buy us time to nurture it.

Yours,
Minnow