If only I had an enemy bigger than my apathy, I could have won.

I almost drowned while snorkelling at Hurghada. I haven't told anyone about this in details because I'm a little embarrassed. Plus I know my friends won't take it seriously. (Because I never explain things properly. Because people suck.)

I honestly didn't think I could drown, ever, because well, call me retarded but all this while I've always thought the sea as a friend. I literally grew up with the sea in my backyard. I love the sea, it's home.

And I'm an excellent swimmer. That has always been my thing, my mojo, my special talent, mine; being able to brag about swimming in the middle of the sea with nothing but swimming goggles.

But apparently the Red Sea has waves my tiny, insignificant body can't handle. It was too rough, too cold, too empty.

At the time I was scared, sure, but I got over it soon enough. Only to feel incredibly sad. Like I've lost something really precious. And well to be perfectly honest, I am still pretty shaken up. It would take a little time before I can go into the sea again.

First my home, then my Mac, now this. Why does the shit that happens to me seems to be in the theme of losing something.

I am so very sad.

But I can't afford to feel sad now (or ever). In fact, it wouldn't do at all if I am anything less than okay by tomorrow. There's things to do, shit to undone, people to please.

I think I deserve a fucking hug.