It is comforting to know that I am not that far from the ocean.  That I can be compared to something so immense by just driving a few minutes.  That if I ever need a sea breeze in order to breathe, I can get one.  Being next to the immensity reminds me of just how small I am.  I am a metaphorical drop in the ocean, a literal blemish on the face of mankind.  I ooze salty tears that match the vapor coming off the waves as they break.  I break with them as my footprints wash away.  The sand is a blank and mistake-less canvas.  And even if a mistake is made, it is gone after just a moment, erased.  The erasure is what I wish for my memories and bitter thoughts.  It is what I have earned for my actions.  My passion for artwork and reading and writing and music are all but gone, erased.  But, like the ocean, even as the waves are drawn out, they always come back.  My loves are slowly returning to me just as the sea foam does to the shore.  I am like the ocean.  Someday, someone will recognize my immensity.