sea story

when i was young every view of the sea sent me shrieking.
on the beach, receiving the ocean white tipped ambassadors at the shore was my sacred duty; i couldn't bare to miss even one. i'd hold the wave the best i could and watch the water slip through my fingers mesmerised.
back then the beach was the holiest or holies, my favorite holiday place. when i grew older, the sea seemed like an old friend, who i'd secretly wait to visit.
now, i live close to the beach. not close enough to see it everyday but close enough for the broad serene road before our apartment to be called beach road. i could pass by the beach everyday if i wanted to, but i don't. instead i take shorter route.
maybe because i'm grown up now and all sorted out.