Floating felt like the opposite of everything she had been taught to do. In school, she learned to push, to strive, to achieve. On social media, she learned to perform. But floating required none of that. It required surrender. She had to trust that the water would hold her. That she wouldn't sink. That even in the dark, even alone, she was still supported.
Perhaps the "alone" was the most important word. Not lonely. Alone. There was a difference. Lonely was a wound. Alone was a room you could furnish however you wanted. She climbed out of the pool just before 1 AM. Water dripped from her hair and clothes, leaving dark spots on the concrete. She grabbed the towel she had left on a lounge chair—a faded blue towel from a beach vacation when she was twelve—and wrapped it around her shoulders. emily 18 alone in the pool at nightrar
Then she began to write. If you enjoyed this story, share it with someone who remembers what it felt like to be 18, alone, and standing at the edge of something unknown. Floating felt like the opposite of everything she