Things are not the same.

My mind is flooded with an ocean that seems to have no bottom. Coming up for air is necessary, but not as important to me as the dive downward. As I sink deeper and deeper, the darkness frightens me and a second of doubt flickers through my mind. I then find myself, arms outstretched, hands searching for another, swimming frantically as if time is running out. Arms are then around me, and you steal from me all that I am too willingly to give up. I savor the kisses like you savor the oxygen, my breath, that you need so badly to live in a place that you are inescapable of. Then you push me away. Up to life, reality, and a place of forgetfulness. This is a breath of air that the concerned above want me to take for myself, when really, I know for a fact that I only breathe for you. I hardly notice that attempt sunlight is trying to make to distract me, to draw me into supposed security and a place in which I can disregard all that this light misunderstands. I inhale, dive downward, and "jeopardize everything" all over again. I do this all with a smile on my face, however careful to not let any oxygen escape my lungs. It may be a blind travel, but there is enough hope waiting to welcome me at the end of my journey to give me all the willpower needed to keep swimming.