Memories of Comfort

Suddenly, the world isn’t a safe place anymore.

My bed, mobile and heart used to be blanketed in a thick sheet of certainty. Now they throb with unsettling possibility.

Saturdays used to be effortless. Now it needs a plan. Plans to walk down the twisted avenue of “don’t-go-theres” and “out-of-bound” signs.

Sundays used to be full of cuddles and TV. Now it’s just saturated with my desk in the office, my mind filled with endless “what-ifs” and attempts to drown each one with the torrent of Friday’s leftovers.

Pardon my whining. May I continue?

Once the uncertainty of the deep sea terrified me. I was taking my diving test at Pulau Tioman. I just finished a terrible first dive. Water flooded my nasal cavity and it stung with salt. But I couldn’t give up. I was so scared… It was nothing I’d ever done before.

He told me to practise my breathing. He told me there was nothing to be afraid of, silly. He prayed a simple prayer. He told me I could do it. His arms said the same thing. The sea winds ripped at his bone-rippled chest. And I was okay.

Eventually though, despite several brave attempts, I didn’t get my diving cert. But he passed — he sailed through the test of the deep.

But best of all, he got flying colours on my scorecard.