With the tide

While I look at the sea, I watch the waves take a year of memories. The months are written in the sand, and taking its time, the sea erases them, leaving space for the next numbers of the calendar.

January is written with a fast and disorganized hand. It marks the beginning of lost months, confused between the hear and mind, wanting and doing, the past and the present. The waves take January with out regret.

February is more legible, showing routine, icy snow, and friendship bonds. But this month leaves with sadness, also showing lost wishes and fallen opportunities.

March is written with elegance, knowing that it was important in leaving a mark in the future forever.  Hopes made March stand next to the sand, but closed doors make the waves take March to the bottom of the ocean.

April can be seen in two languages, showing the desperation of wanting to know which direction to take next to my life. Spanish and English confuse, and make the waves move like the paths in front of me did on those long days.

May is written in brunette and gold. Its letters don't want to be erased from the sand, due to the best moments of the year being held in them . May tells the tales of sunsets in the blue lake, goals that were reached, and long lasting friendship.

June shines. Next to June are written an expected and nostalgic ending, and a beginning with hearts and a persistent love.

July is written next to music letters, for being sung, shortly but with passion. The waves erase July while singing.

The letters of August are delicate, showing adventures decorated with colors. This month talks about the treasures of life: coffees in strange cities, sounds of the wind when traveling, walking in calm and colorful streets, the sweetness of a love of opposites, the beginning of a new chapter, and the first step as an adult.

Once the waves have taken August, September, October and November are seen together. These months were impressed by the fast pace of weeks, and the chaos of an organized life. They went up and down, they smiled, they learned, they fell in love, they loved, they danced, they sang, they ran. They waves run with them,

December can be seen written perfectly, determined to end the year with permanent memories and future illusions. December vibrates next to the sea, knowing that what it lived will never be forgotten. The waves hesitate before erasing it, marking the end of the twelve months that changed the rhythm of the waves.

The year has run like the water, it has gone up and down like the tide, it has seen sunrises and sunsets with salt and sweet water. My year has moved, it has made me live with cold feet and hot heart.