A Migratory Fish

I feel like I'm migrating from warm tropical seas to the cold Arctic. And in so doing have left part of myself behind. The school I was swimming with bored me. So I looked elsewhere. When I saw the flash of color I dashed toward it. But I found that up close the colors aren't quite so bright.



So I returned to my former school to float in the loving comfort of familiarity. Being with him again made me want to breach and dive. For days I leapt over the waves. Singing whale song. Heart quivering with longing. Floating in the warmest of waters. Mind spinning.

But I continue to ask myself. Is this where I want to swim?
Should I set a course for the cold waters of the unknown? Will I find my true self there? Or will it make me just another cold fish moving from man to man?

I have no idea.

Dating loneliness

I really believed I'd feel less lonely with all of these meet and greet dates. I thought I'd start to get a glimpse of that connection I once had. But all I've found again and again are the cold depths of closed off people.

We fishalones guard ourselves in this scaly armor, thinking it will protect us from the hurts we know must be waiting down there, deeper in that ocean. We color them with department store makeup or thicken them with hairdresser jell. But we know it's all false. Each shining scale reflects a false light back into the eyes of our date.

He knows nothing of who we truly are. Nor does he care. His attention is in that one spot at the back of our tails. And no matter how wide we open our fish eyes or how many bubbles of sublime words escape our mouths he never notices.

Because the fish I date never see me. Only the scales I encase myself in.

And maybe I should keep it that way.