The ocean contains so many colors. Silver at dawn, green at noon, dark blue in the evening. Sometimes it looks almost red. Right now, the shadows of clouds are dragging across it, and patches of sunlight are touching down everywhere. White strings of gulls drag over it like beads.

It's beautiful.

It's my favorite thing that I have ever seen. Sometimes I catch myself staring at it and forget my duties. It seems big enough to contain everything anyone could ever feel.

I just love the serene brutality of the ocean, love the electric power I feel with each breath of wet, briny air.

Because there's nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it's sent away.

I had spent uncounted hours sitting at the bow, looking at the water and the sky, studying the waves, each one different from the last, seeing how it caught the light, the air, the wind; watching patterns, the sweep of it all, and letting it take me. Letting it take my pencil and write itself for me.

A gust of wind had taken me by surprise that I didn't have earlier notice to stop the pages from ruffling and turning themselves. I moved my long hair out of my face first before I tended to hold my writing journal until the whoosh of wind had passed.

It had opened on the very first page which was written when I first got the journal at the beginning of the year. I had written down a few things I wanted to do or achieve by the end of the year, that was nearly over. It was December and there are a couple of things I hadn't checked off of that list.

Like being able to swim in the ocean.

As much as I admire the ocean and its eternal beauty and wonder, I still find a part of it scary. Its waves that crash could be claws and sharp teeth, its beautiful depth could be a never-ending adventure of all the mysterious creatures that live under there.

It's ironic, really.

I envy everyone who can dive into the deep ocean, not knowing what lies underneath the surface. I'm not an adventurous type of girl, I'm more like sit quietly and admire from afar.

Speaking of admiring from afar, every year I came to my grandma's house in Melbourne, Australia around this time a year, I tend to run into or see the same happy surfer guy. From what I've noticed, he works most of the week as a lifeguard, and when he's not working he's surfing.

All the interaction between us was purely just eye contact. He's usually by himself and his dog, and the shore doesn't always have somebody else but me.

He was a pretty handsome guy, and I always saw him in his jean shorts, his tanned body glistening under the sunlight, but his face, too, was beautiful. He had eyes the same color of the ocean, like he was its son, guarding it till the last day. His hair was a golden brown color, and he had a shiny smile and a strong jaw.

He was the definition of my dream guy. I'd already written about him before I'd even seen him.

I wish I wasn't such a pusillanimous, I scribbled the words down in my journal. But if I'm rejected by this guy –this perfect a-thousand-poems-worthy guy, my dreams are shattered and I would like to live in them a little longer.

I took in a deep breath and looked out at the lively waves again, thinking about what I set out do about swimming in the ocean. I want to do it, but just like talking to this guy, I lack courage.

I almost jumped at the sound of someone running towards me but when I looked to my right, I saw it was just a dog. His dog. And just like her owner, this dog was beautiful.

"Hi, baby," I pet her head, scratching under her chin and stroking her back.

She had really long hair the color of really light caramel that covered her pretty brown eyes. She was huge, too, and extremely friendly.

I giggled when she opened her mouth, hanging her tongue out and flicking her tail happily. But the sound of a sharp whistle made the dog sit upright and perk up towards the voice before she ran towards him.

"Where did you go, huh?" He stroked her head as she jumped on him. I smiled fondly, already used to watching him with his dog.

He then glanced at me, catching me in the act and started moving his bare feet into the sand on his way to my spot.

I gulped, trying to talk myself up as I fidgeted with the small dress I was wearing on top of my bikini.

"Hi," he said. How could a voice be attractive? I didn't know voices could do that.

"Hi," I smiled, craning my neck up to look at him. He was even better looking up close.

"Sorry, did Caramelle bother you?"

I raised my eyebrows, eyes slightly rounder. "Caramelle, as in female caramel," I was meant for it to be a question, but it came out as a statement.

"Correct," It was his time to raise his eyebrows. His blue eyes were enchanting. I looked away to the dog that was now sitting in front of me.

"That's clever," I scratched under Caramelle's chin, which she seemed to enjoy. "I love Briard dogs."

"Correct again," he chuckled and sat himself down next to me, a reasonable distance between our knees. I blushed, he grinned. "Is that why you're always looking in my direction? Because you love the dog?"

"W— I—" I stuttered, and he laughed, sending my cheeks to lava land. "I'm not always looking your way!"

"If you're not looking at the ocean or writing in your notebook, you're looking at me," he paused. "Well, at Caramelle."

"Don't flatter yourself. If you know that, then you were looking at me." I point out, smiling when I noticed his cheeks flushing deep red, avoiding eye contact –which was good for me, I needed to breathe properly for a second.

"It's not that hard to notice you, you're pretty much the only one who sits here, especially at sunrise." He smiled lopsidedly at me, tilting his head at me and having to weave his fingers through his slightly dampened hair to pull it off his forehead.

"I like the ocean," I simply stated. "I travel miles to be here, whenever I can."

"It's a plus that it's still sunny in December here, isn't it?"

"Somewhere sunny is my favorite place to be," I smile. "It's a plus that my grandma lives right by the ocean, too."

He looked out to the horizon, the sun starting to spread out its purple and pink and orange hues across the blue sky to disappear behind the waves of the ocean.

"But you never get in."

I parted my lips and closed it a couple of times before I finally replied, "I like to admire it from afar."

He smiled a strange smile, like he was having his own private joke. "There's nothing wrong with enjoying looking at the ocean itself, except that when you finally see what goes on underwater, you realize that you've been missing the whole point of the ocean."

I nodded. He looked back at me and said, "It's like going to the circus and staring at the outside of the tent."

"But you don't know what could be out there. Well, you have an idea about it and it's not always good. Right?"

His eyebrows knitted together. "So you're scared."

"No," I sputtered out and looked away from his ocean eyes. "I'm being cautious."

"You're terrified," He raised his eyebrows. "You never tried swimming?"

A moment passed, then he stood up and offered me his hand. I looked from his hand to his eyes before I shook my head.

"What are you doing?"

"You can't say you admire the ocean before you actually see it," he said and bent down to take my hand and I couldn't fight it if I wanted to.

I found myself following him into the ocean. I walked without going in too deep, holding onto his hand as a safety.

He'd joked once and said, "I'll meet you where the sun meets the ocean along the horizon. That'd somewhere sunny."

I didn't feel like I'd accomplished something big for walking in the ocean as much as I did for talking to my crush. These are two things off my bucketlist this year.

We stayed there for only a little while, sharing our love for the ocean, until we had to get out before the sun disappeared behind the horizon.

When I wanted to write about him, I realized we didn't have each other's names.

•••

this is an entry for the chick lit and teen fiction collab 2017.
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