Swimming with You

Yesterday, we swam together for the first time. A simple act, really. But an act I've dreamt of since you were swimming inside me.

You loved the water, a small pool at your friend CJ's apartment in downtown Chicago. You loved kicking your legs and splashing your arms. You loved "jumping" into the water from the side the of pool. You smiled the entire time, even when you swallowed water, even when your eyes got red from so much splashing.

This is only the beginning. We will swim underwater. We will swim butterfly. We will swim in lakes. We will swim in the ocean. We will swim at night. We will swim in cold water in a cave. We will swim with fish, in seaweed, in a race, in the rain, in the moonlight. Water is the most amazing thing on this earth. I will teach you to respect it. To crave it. To be at one with it. To be in awe of it, like the first time you try to surf or when a giant wave in Hawaii engulfs you. To even fear it, like how a fast-paced river can sweep you away in an instant. Most of all, I will teach you to find joy in it: the sun's rays on your back; the pure beauty of a warm part of a fresh-water lake followed by a wave of cold; the art of a perfectly-timed flip turn; and the intensity of an open-water race.

Water has meant more to me than any natural element in this world. I bathed in it, while I labored with you. It relaxed me when nothing else would. I share you with all of this, so you will immerse yourself in it. Seek it. The moments you have in water will stay with you longer than those you have on land.