Row, row, row your own boat...

 

The water is calm except for a slight ripple coming from the bow of a row boat slowly making its way toward tomorrow and away from yesterday.

     The journey started with two boats, floating parallel, one occupant in each. Brought side by side by fate or just the narrowing of a passageway. Side by side, life ensued, knowing no itinerary, no consequences in the offing.
     One occupant was equiped with no footing: no life jacket, no self esteem. Into the other's boat she climbed never aware that she was setting her own vessel adrift. Remorse was absent for she had never felt ownership anyway. And so the thought came as it had each time before, that it is impossible to lose that which you never really owned at the beginning.
     His became hers. Life was grand until the boat grew too small for both. Finding herself pushed to the rail, she panicked as she tried to hold her space. But his boat was no longer hers. She found herself clinging to the side unable to remain aboard, unable to recognize from whence she had come.
Dangling in the water, she prayed herself through a barrage of salty tears. No boat. No oars. No backup plan.
     Her promise to self - Never Again.

     For the next stranger's boat encountered - never to be any other, but an independent and parallel path for two.

- between the lines...