point nemo

Before my shadow stretched too tall, I used to watch the waves, thinking the ocean was an endless mystery. Barefoot in the sand, I collected shimmery seashells, tiny rocks, and other keepsakes to remember the ocean breeze, after concrete paths replaced sand-swept hills. My little feet in shallow water, splashing as I jumped around, playing catch with the waves and trying to follow the seagulls above my head on their journeys to an unknown destination.

I painted a picture in my head of what I could find out there if I only swam far enough. What’s there to discover when the shore turns into nothing but a theory in my mind?

If only I knew that somewhere in the never-ending vastness, a little buoy floated alone at the world’s loneliest spot: Point Nemo. It doesn’t get lonelier than this.

When I first heard about a corner of the Earth so far from the realm of reality, it made me think of the passing moments and golden hours we once shared in unseen dreamscapes. All the silent „I love you“s and sighs of consolation no one ever heard – except for the two of us – once the moon rose. Unity and closeness hidden in silent voids and the shadows of dusk. A convergence of souls behind closed doors, like a secret none of us ever shared with the world. It was only you. And me.

How can something so beautiful and pure feel so lonely at the same time? I felt remarkably isolated, yet so exceptional, floating around our little buoy with no one else nearby. You were the Point Nemo of my life. I held onto the strands of our bond so tightly because you made me fear the feeling of floating on my own. How should I have known who to be and where to go, once the only thing keeping me alive was no longer holding my hand? Whose heartbeat would I listen to once I didn’t have a chest to let my head rest on anymore?

It took me a while to reach the coastline after finally letting go. Now, I’m lying in the sand, watching seagulls circling way up in the sky, wrapped in the hush of the moment, and I can’t stop a single tear from running down my face. I’m going to miss being lonely with you. It was magical and incomparable, shaping a world just for you and me. But staying would’ve meant my drowning death.

Point Nemo is worth a visit, but never a permanent stay.