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I search for words
To describe this feeling...
After you told me
You hate me...

I remember when 
I went swimming in the ocean
One day in January...
Ice was curled in elaborate design
Of wind-blown swirls on the sand...
Snowflakes mixed with grains of sand
And bitter wind blew both into my face-
Sea foam blew across the beach
Like stray, sodden mushroom clouds
And the ocean waves were dark 
And angry...
It was so cold, this January...
But I wasn't scared.

That day, I had I thought of
The ocean in autumn;
When I swam last in autumn,
It was October, and the
Wind was harsh and strong;
Waves were wild with
The fresh memory of stormclouds,
So they crested high and broke hard
On the beach...
The sun hadn't shone that day either.
The water, when I dove into it,
Was cold, but warmer than the air-
Vicious to look at,
But under the surface of the waves
Still gentle as summer...
Familiar...
I had gone back in more than once
Just because I loved the feel,
The pull of the current, the raw energy
Of the water against my skin,
And I dove through waves again
And again...

I knew it would be worse this time,
A few months later
And so many degrees colder...
I almost decided not to do it
When I peeled off my coat, 
My shirt, my boots, pants, and socks...
The wind bit my skin hard, tearing
Into my warm body, and the gound,
Icy, was like bared teeth against the soles
Of my feet...
Too late to back out now.

So I ran, barefoot, over ice-ringed
Puddles of seawater and snow-flecked sand...
I reached the water, the first soft waves...
I was slowed by the foamy surf,
Which, only knee-deep, was a strong deterrent,
But then I was past it, and I dove...
That first, frigid, smack in the face
As the water closed over my head
Stole all heat, all memory of heat,
From my body all in an instant...
I surfaced gasping in shock,
Heart about to either stop or burst-
I'm still not sure which,
All I could think of was the cold...
It was so cold...
Colder than anything I've ever known...

I retreated clumsily-
I should have recoiled from the ground,
Stepping quickly and lightly
Over cruelly sharp grains of 
Equally mixed ice and sand,
But I could no longer feel the cold...
I could feel nothing...
Could think nothing...

When you told me you hate me...
It felt like that.
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