I've never been one to read too heavily into signs,
But Good God you have been everywhere these last few weeks,
Except where you should be,
Which is out of mind.

To begin I see your face every time I happen to see my best friends Facebook page
(He's the man you're now dating).
There you are, staring and smiling right back at me,
Happy as I could ever have hoped you could be.

Then of course he commented on some post you made so it gets put in my newsfeed.
It's just so strange all the places in which you are appearing.

Before that I had a dream where you had the same habit of appearing
In all those places that you least should be,
And despite my best efforts to evade you,
My luck - which normally runs exceedingly to the good -
Found the propensity for tremendously letting me down,
Rounding every last corner to find you already there.
Regardless how long we've been broken up, you've decided to comeback and haunt my sleep.

Next was an injection of even more instability into the already unsteady,
As my now ex-girlfriend talked to my best friend - yes, again, the man you're now dating -
And upon hearing how well things are going between you two
Realized just how unstable, just how rocky, things were between her and me
(And just so you remember, you two used to be friends before everything,
Back before you and I had started dating).
So now she decides to approach this subject, something to me seemingly out of left field...
A tear-filled, weepy approach, and she had trouble trying to vocally broach the subject,
That is, all up until once I figured out it was you, it made perfect sense on the heels
                                                           ­                                                                 ­                       Of that dream.

To cap off all the unreality of your presence in a life
That is otherwise utterly free of you - or at least that's how it should be -
Came only a short while ago... once again, completely out of the blue.
I was searching on Facebook for my buddy Johnny, though I think he's now going by John,
So I figured
                     John would do.
When the results came up, what the hell, holy crap, this is too bizarre to be truth,
Johnson came up as the first result I might be looking for - yup, that's you -
Someone I'm not even friends with on this social media nightmare,
Strange that it wasn't one of half dozen or so friends named Johnny or John.
No, it was you.

It might be finally time to take this to a psychiatrist, because,
As stated before, this ****'s getting too bizarre to be true.
Leave me in peace and leave my mind alone.
You've gotten your final revenge as the girl who replaced you and I have finally broken.
Things between us are over and I'm single,
While you are happily off at school in a budding relationship.
What must I do to rid myself of you, to be free of you
As you are obviously free of me?

You're most likely asleep and dreaming peacefully at this moment
While I sit here awake under one dim lamp wondering and writing about you,
Wondering if I actually want sleep, hesitant that it might bring no respite,
Rather only more thoughts of you, whereas you are free of me.

She was in my dreams again,
Her face there around every corner I went.
No matter how I tried to escape,
There she was each and every time,
In each and every place.

Regardless to how far I am removed
From that brief bit of time with her,
I find my old feelings
Rising unwanted to the surface,
A sickness I am unable to hold back.

I just avoided her in dream,
And now I am fleeing the scene,
Only to find her standing right in my way
As these scenarios and symptoms repeat,
Heave, heave, and heave again.

To write - that flow of words is therapeutic beyond all belief.
To write - the psychological rehabilitation and relief does for me amazing things.
This ability to write - it feels so natural and right.
The words, when written by hand, simply roll across the paper,
Falling from my brain out through my hand seemingly with no end.
It is extraordinary, the physical release that comes with the act of writing.
When I write there is such a lifting of tension, a weight no longer resting on my shoulders,
It always astounds me.

When I pick up the pen after a hiatus
This in rush of positive feeling is constantly surprising,
Each and everytime.
It makes me question why - each and everytime -
Why I ever put the pen down?

The danger, the thrills, the risk, the chills,
It all combines in wave riding to build
The most euphoric experience around.

It doesn't matter whether it's ten-foot or two-foot,
Nor whether I'm body surfing, bodyboarding, nor surfing - longboard or short.
Hell, even a stand-up board will do the trick... if you know how to use it.
Whatever you've got to use to gain that thrill
That comes with harnessing Mother Nature, even against her will.

Some might be snobbish and frown upon those
Who happen to ride only upon the foam,
But in actuality it doesn't really matter
So long as you're out there having fun, because in the end,
That's truly the one who wins.

And to tell you the truth, I believe that's me.
Scratch that. I know I am.
When I am out there I know I am having the most fun.
I'm whooping and hollering and exuding the raw exultation of being in the water -
Of being at harmony, of being one with Mother Nature.

That, that is what matters, and
That, that is what I embody.

It's always so funny how much I miss surfing.
I get away from it so much and for goodly lengths of time,
But when I finally get back to it,
It's true love all over again.

That pure, child-like jubilation at simply being back in the ocean
Combines with the euphoria and rush, the exuberance that comes with riding a wave.
It's a trip better than any drug,
A high more thrilling than anything else,
And the addiction always leaves me coming back.

I love it - simple as that.
Surfing: it's how life is meant to be.
Nothing else compares.

Sometimes you have to leave old things behind,
It comes past time to move on to other things.
We all find that we have grown stale within our own lines,
Sitting too comfy in the familiar surroundings of our daily lives.

It's time to move on to more volatile yet fertile pastures,
To test those bounds that we have set for ourselves,
To go and climb those mountains, to dive those seas,
To surf those waves, and maybe climb some trees.

As much as the enjoyment has been,
As much fun as we have seen,
How good things have been,
It's come time to move on.
It's come time to live those dreams.

Let's go test those bounds, and maybe,
Maybe we'll come back someday.

I'll pray to God,
And I'll pray to Santa Claus -
And to anyone else who has half an ear tuned -
That this Christmas time
I've really only got one thing on my Christmas list,
I've only got one holiday wish,
There's one out there I want,
And that's to be able to spend my Christmas with you.