Go, said the wind to the little girl, standing on the shore. Don’t be afraid. Go, the water is calm and I am at your back.

I am a good swimmer! said the child, But it looks so far. What is out there? What is on the other side?

Who knows? said the wind. Maybe there will be other worlds to discover. Maybe you will find treasure. Maybe love. You will meet others along the way. Maybe they will know.

YOU know, said the girl, and laughed at the wind, but I will find out.

And

in

she

  dove.

A moment, or a thousand years passed, and she came to the other side. Weary now, she dragged herself ashore and sat in the sun, grateful for the warmth.

Why didn’t you tell me? asked the old woman of the wind. I am a good swimmer – but you lied. You were not always at my back. Sometimes you blew so hard against me that I nearly drowned.

There were other swimmers, said the wind, who needed me at theirs.

There were other swimmers. Some were with me for a short time, others much longer. We would try to hang on, but even so, we left each other behind. Now I am alone. Why didn’t you tell me?

No two journeys are the same, said the wind.

Some days the water was clear and sparkled with the sun. I could see clearly in all directions. Some days the sky was so dark I was afraid of what I couldn’t see. Sometimes the waves were so tall I lost my way. I was dashed against rocks and pulled under. There were days when it seemed I would never see the sun, and I didn’t think I could go on, she told the wind, her face in her hands.

But you did go on. Did you find treasure?

I did – but when I tried to carry it the weight made me sink. Why didn’t you tell me?

And did you find love? asked the wind.

The old woman smiled. I did. I thought I lost it many times, until I understood that you can’t carry it. It carries you.

The wind smiled back. So you found out. Was it worth it, then?

It was, most of the time, said the old woman. But the people I loved – so many times I had to let them go. And now my heart is broken and scarred with memories. Why would you want that to happen to me? Why didn’t you tell me it would be so hard?

I couldn’t tell you, my friend, said the wind. If I had, you never would have gone.

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Published by Renee

46 thoughts on “Why Didn’t You Tell Me?”

  1. Reblogged this on An Honest Sinner and commented:
    This is one of the first things I read this morning and it stunned me silent, broke my hear, made me feel like I could fly.

    So much emotion and truth and I tip my hat to the writer, my astounding friend.

    Much love.

  3. Once again, another beautiful piece. Thank you for continuing to share your wonderful writing on your blog. I look forward to reading more of your work. 🙂

  4. This is going to sound weird, but just stay with me for a minute and I’ll explain. As I was reading this, I kept thinking, “This is so good! Where did she find this?” And then, as I neared the end, I realized that OF COURSE you wrote it (why else would it be here on your blog?) — and I felt foolish for not just realizing that straight away. I am super impressed with this (your writing, not my ditziness). It drew me in immediately and was just beautifully written! Thank you for sharing!

    1. 🙂 It reminded me a little of “footprints,” with a different message. So its ok. A close friend of mine asked if I wrote it. I’m glad you liked it. I am surely not the first to use this metaphor. (Just keep swimming) 🙂

  6. Pingback: This is a beautiful piece from That Shameless Hussy. | In the Net! - Stories of Life and Narcissistic Survival

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