Flying through the waters

SO I dived into the cold blue waters, smashing my face on the crystal glittered surface and sinking in my weightless body. The water froze off my arms and legs for a second. I opened my eyes, battered the water with the strength of my heavy arms and kicked off my way to get back onto the surface. But it's all too late now. The signal screeched through my ears and the race was finally over. I've lost, but never was I dismayed by the game I've love the most.

Before, swimming has always splashed my heart with anxiety every Friday as we walked passed a pool for PE class. Everyone took the recess time to wear their swimsuits but there I was cramping my way to excuse myself.

I'd rather take the bus home than sink myself in the five-foot deep waters, but my friends would always scold me, they said it's either I try or die (referring to my grade that is).

Sure, I mumbled every time my friends would try to show off swimming styles and techniques. Maybe it's because I don't know how to swim or maybe I was just afraid to learn how to swim.

But soon, the water hypnotized me, so I took my first dive.

I threw my arms forward with all the strength I could harness and kicked my way off to soar through the surface. It felt as though I was flying. Flying on a waterbed, that is, with my arms flapping like wings and my feet paddling like a duck's. That feeling when the cold water splashes to your head, embracing every part of your body and caressing every moment to breathe.

The cold blue crystalline waters washed off my fear of sinking. I've never flown before, but the feeling of being free brings the idea of flying as its closest comparison as the water cools your mind from all the stress and where the freezes off the tension in your body.

How I would want to indulge in such feeling even when I'm just walking around or snoring in sleep. Since then swimming has never left my heart, and every time my eyes sees the cold blue crystalline bed of water, I couldn't help but jump in.