I sink into her. Hot red mass engulfs me, and my senses shut down. It feels heavier than the netting of the ocean did before. The totality of her overcomes me again. She's good at that. I lose my breath. I imagine I could look up and watch it bubble away from me. Drowning here would be a treat. I try to look up. It's dreadful keeping my eyes open in here. All I can see is red, even when they're closed. The boiling heat of a living body fills the spaces between my fingers. No part of me is left unencroached. There is no sense of boundary in the space I'm in. She blares a divine light into me like the sun would. My eyes tear up. The inside of my mask will be damp for the rest of the night. Still, I want to thank her for it. I don't know why. I don't deserve to be here. I am not a good enough person to feel the weight of an angel press against my body, my limbs, my chest. I wish she'd agree. I wish she would emphasize how small I am to her. I wish she spoke back to me. I selfishly want so much from her. I see so much in her. I will miss her more than anything else I will leave behind. Feeling like a part of something feels so uncomfortable. Feeling like a part of her makes me weak with love. It's such a pity. She doesn't deserve to be my interface with such a cruel place. There's a lot of people in the ocean. If I saw anyone else today, I would second-guess what I'm about to do. I'm not looking out anymore. I'm going to talk to myself until I'm done. I'm at peace with that. ...And I'm right for being at peace with it. I have decided to be lonely. That's my reason. I don't need to think about me any more than that. But they're not bad people. That's what hurts me the most. They are not the secrets they tell one another down here. They are not the time you have with them. They are not the ocean itself. They're just people. They are alive, like you and I. You will never be suffering in a way nobody else is. And the suffering they let you see isn't what their whole life is, either. I think the nature of the ocean makes that hard to remember. In a few long hours from now, it will be the end of the world. The ocean will run dry, the people in it will go with it, and the land will turn cold. It will be my fault. I've given a lot of thought to that, if you'll believe me. The oceans rose, and people started disappearing. Falling into their local desolution. Or running to play pretend in the ocean, if they had the luxury. At least you'd actually find people to meet in the ocean. People hopeless in the same way you were. I shouldn't talk like I miss it. My VLF front has been closed for a long time now. I'm not down here for the other people, anymore. The angel is plenty. I will find my peace in the ocean. I will find our peace in the ocean. Until then, I'll get lost in her one more time.