I WASTED MY ENTIRE SUMMER ON HER, even though we broke up months before. I barely leave the house. Regret, drugs and beer bottles have been my only friends on this couch for months. I have no money, drugs or real friends left. I fall asleep lonely and sober, having no other choice.

Cool air creeps through the windows overnight and upon awakening I see that the thin blanket will not serve my bare chest anymore. It’s mid-morning and I turn on the TV (my best friend). I stop at the weather channel. I notice there is a hurricane off the coast. My first instinct is to call the surf report. The waves are big it says, real big. The realization sets in though as I put down the phone. I have not surfed in almost two years…two years have gone by.

For the next few hours I waver over the decision of whether to go surfing or stay put. I’m not in great shape. I look around the bare apartment and it becomes clear: I don’t have anything. I decide I will leave the couch and house today. Thought it takes me time to find my board and wetsuit, which are buried in my garage. I drive to the beach alone. This is the way I always surfed.

It is late afternoon by the time I arrive. I know the waves are big before I even see the ocean. It is clear just from the number of cars in the parking lot and the crowd of people standing on the boardwalk. I park all the way at the end of the lot, where there are less people and surfers. My wetsuit is tight. I’m not sure if it’s because I have gained weight or because I have not worn it in so long. I take my board out of the back of the truck. The wax on it is old and dirty. I find a half-used bar of wax in my trunk and use it to rough up the deck.

My first look at the ocean stirs feelings from long ago…feelings from a life that seems to have been lived by a stranger. Feelings I now meet only in dreams.

It was so ironic that I found her on the beach. She hated the beach. Her friends had dragged her there that day we first met. It was her long hair, the coffee hue of her skin, the way the little bikini fit over her body that made me approach her. She said she had never met a surfer before.

There is light wind coming off the land, making the waves hollow and glassy. As I paddle out the walls of white water coming at me are huge. The board feels awkward, from lack of use, yet I get under the first few waves easily. The water feels good, a bit warmer than the air.

Soon a wave rips me off my board. I get back on but it happens again. Then again. I realize I am not duck-diving correctly: I’m not going deep enough. I’m clinging to the surface. This is where my mind thinks it is safe, because the air is there. But it’s not safe. To get under a big wave you have to dive deep, real deep. I’m afraid to go deep. Maybe it’s because….or maybe it’s because I’m afraid I might not come up.

Soon I forgot about surfing. I was out at the clubs, with a new haircut and clothes. I even started working out because most of the guys she was friends with did. They took a lot of drugs and I started to also. I used to take a lot of the same drugs when I was younger. It was then I first went to the ocean, to get away from such things....

I’m almost all the way out. My arms are jello. A huge wave is coming. I try to make it past it but it breaks right in front of me. I try to dive deep. Lose all desire to remain above water, I tell myself. Accept the depth and darkness necessary to pass safely underneath. Have faith and determine to follow through. But I am ripped off the board again, and somersault underwater in the chaos.

It’s a long time that I’m under. I try to relax; my mind and body resist violently, and grasp for air, surface, light. Soon I see lighter water and make my way towards it. At the surface, I hyperventilate. Before I get a full breath, I swallow some water. God, there are no more waves coming. I paddle out past the break zone as quickly as I can manage at this point. I sit up on my board, losing balance at first. Why am I doing out here, I wonder? I consider paddling back in.

The desire to surf did come up at times. Something would stir a memory, a song, a scent, an emotion… usually just falling away in fleeting moments. Other times thought she would distract me from my memories. Freshly showered and a yellow towel. Her hair seemed longer when it was wet. The towel fell to the ground…memories of surfing lost to golden thighs.

Another huge set forms towards the horizon. I paddle outwards, hoping the first wave doesn’t break in front of me. The massive wave swells, crests, then beings to break. I duck-dive deep, this time all instinct. I get under it. The next three I am able to paddle over safely. I sit out there for a while before attempting to take anything. I watch the huge mounds of water pass by, each seeming to have a life of its own. I am scared, and feel unworthy. I am too weak and unconfident to take off on one of these beasts.

But the desire is there. It comes from a different place than the fear. Finally I get the nerve to take off on one. I paddle hard and before I know it I am standing on the board, shuttling downward on the steep drop. This is one giant ramp. When I reach the bottom I turn and shoot across the face of the wave. I am surfing again. I can’t believe it! The wave looks like it’s going to break on me so I quickly exit off the shoulder. It’s still there, I think to myself. Just like riding a bike.

It wasn’t long into our relationship when I realized she wasn’t the right girl for me. Before I even made any of the changes. But I was good at tricking myself. I was good at living a life I didn’t want to live. The drugs helped too. The drugs silenced the things I didn’t want to hear, the things I didn’t want to know.

On the next wave I fall hard and am held under a long time. Part of me gets scared again and thinks I’m going to drown. I come up gasping hard for air. Then I come to a startling conclusion: I realize what’s causing most of my suffering. I am trying to control a force that is so much greater than myself. How could I ever control this force? There is nothing to do in the face of such power, but surrender. Only in the act of surrendering to the ocean can I gain any semblance of control. And even that is an illusion.

Had she controlled me? That’s what my friends had said. But I knew it wasn’t the truth. Deep down I always knew what I was doing. I had wanted to control her. I wanted to make her weak, so she would we fall into my arms. That was why I made all the changes. I thought that would make her mine. I was wrong. Ultimately, that’s what drove her away.

I paddle back out. It’s then I really begin take in my surroundings. The sun has begun to set. It sends yellow and orange light across the sky. The ocean has taken on a violent hue. I am so far out it feels like the middle of the ocean. I feel the great energy I am in the midst of. I see how vulnerable I am out here. These waves could crush me in a second. Yet I am not afraid; I am only in awe of this power and at a deep peace with my surroundings.

I take off on another huge wave, on the edge of total chaos. As I fly down the face I feel the tremendous energy of the wave running right through me. I am a current. I hear the massive lip come crashing down behind me. It shuttles towards me and soon envelopes me. I am inside the wave, in the barrel. It is dark and silent. The outside world disappears. I have no thoughts, only a subtle awareness of myself as separate from the wave. The wave then swiftly spits me out from its hollow contours, the completion of the dance.

I thought the sex would never get old but it did. When we were done I always wanted to leave. Because it was then I really noticed the emptiness; she knew it too. Sex so often lets you down….surfing often turns out better than you imagined it might be.

I don’t paddle back out, I paddle into shore.

It was my fault; not hers. I take all the blame. She didn’t make me change, I did it all myself. We were too different, I understand that now. To her the ocean would always taste bitter; to me it would always be sweet.

It’s dark our and the blacktop is cold on my bare feet. The winter months will be here soon. I don’t care though. I’m not afraid. I started surfing again. My life has begun anew.