the prodigal daughter

A wave of melancholia washes over me. Unlike swimming in the Indian Ocean, the Sea of Doubt and Despair can be rather dangerous.

Where I would face waves head on and bounce over them or duck under them in the Indian Ocean, the breaks in this other sea are another matter entirely. In this scary sea, there's hardly time between waves to catch your breath, brace yourself and make your decision: bounce or duck?

I've been treading water for so long. My legs have started to tire. Do I give up and just slip under or do I continue treading water?

If I came back home tomorrow, unemployed with a couple of thousands dollars to my name, and a plot for a bestselling book, would you blame me?

If I threw away what I once thought was a dream job with a reputable organisation because 'it's not me', would you blame me?

Would you make me act like a naughty dog with its tail between its legs? Make me pay penance for my indecision, lack of ability to work within a timeframe.

Or would you welcome me back with open arms, be glad for me to be 'here' instead of 'there'?

It's time to get out of the water.