The beach was a willing vessel. With each surge of rising tide, it pulled and pushed as I careened into liquid oblivion.
I remembered my childhood friend, Janet. Yes, that was her name. She bubbled with exuberance. She talked fast and loud and demanded to be heard. I, her sidekick, was the silent one. My mind took in everything. But it stayed in the deep recesses, swirling in pools of indecision and confliction. I was shy. I was uncommunicative. I was inhibited. I was the listener.
She was the celebration that never stopped: laughter, bravado, intensity, always on the move, never landing in one place for more than an instant.
I was a lonely walk on a foggy beach, drops of mist forming on the ridge of my hat and finally rolling gently over the precipice to dissipate into the sand. Some made its way to my face. Blinking the moisture from my eyes, I moved on slow and steady.
We were the perfect storm. Yin and Yang. Extrovert meets introvert, like the push and pull of the waves, one propelled the other. Dependency. Without one the other would not exist.