Love is like drowning.

First and foremost, English is not my first language, so forgive me for any highly likely mistake you find here. This is a small segment of my upcoming book, Tales of Tuonela, hope you enjoy.

"I have always been afraid of two things: love and drowning

Somehow, I managed to associate both, I mean: just like love, water seems smooth and rather liberating: I could do things under water I couldn't possibly conceive doing on land, but there were also some problems, I had to move slower, there's always some resistance when it comes to water, unless you learn to move with it.

I never learnt that. Nor did I like to move slower.

I would always defy the tides and make swimming nearly impossible, not because I didn't know better, but because I was stubborn, I never accepted to be taken somewhere I didn't chose myself and myself alone to go.

I nearly drowned several times because of that, and eventually I developed a phobia against water, I refused to rejoice in her freedom for I couldn't control her wild stream, nor would I win in a fight against her tide.

Then I met her: she had the charm of a pouring rain in a chilly afternoon in the middle of the autumn, yet her hazel eyes would shine brighter than the sun himself: I didn't like her at first.

She invited me to dance once, art at which I'm quite skilled at, I always took great pride in my magnificent and rather lascivious control of my hips, legs and booty, I could mesmerize anyone as I moved.

Except for her: she didn't dance, she was the music, the was her hearts, her moves were swift as the flow of the air in a dandelions field during the first minutes of the morning, she had some kind of grace that I never experienced.

Until she made me share a dance in her arms.

It was swimming all over again: I had to slow down, change my movements and adjust my rhythm to hers, there was some resistance I couldn't seem to break.

She put a hand on the back of my neck and the other on my waist, my first instinct was to resist, to flee, to struggle my way out of there.

Or else, I would drown on her.

Or so I thought.

Once I my eyes met hers, they became the blanket covering my stone cold heart, and that smile of hers was like water for my thirsty soul, filling me up, eventually drowning me... and when I thought I would suffocate to death, the moment I was about to lose consciousness completely, her lips touched mine, and in that second I knew: I could breathe under water."

Love is not the constraining suffocating prison of drowning, love is a gentle breeze in an chilly morning, and I was the flying dandelion."

- Victoria Vihreä's Journal

Author's Note

Please, if you find any sentence that makes no sense in English, let me know and please explain me why it is wrong, so I will learn and not commit the same mistake again.

Reviews

[Laura Almeida]

"she was the music, the was her hearts," i think you skipped a word there.
Besides that.. what a great comparison between falling in love and drawning. Damn that was a very good one.. and you kept it until the end. It was great.
I want to read more from you and hope your book happens!