Fishing boats and fear

I cannot swim.

I am afraid of the water. Not pools or beaches where I can ease myself into the shallow. Dark, endless, cold water where I may meet my end frightens me.

We packed up some things and headed out. Hitting the store first, then riding up to Strawberry Reservoir. He undid the boat and parked while I held it to the dock. I sat on the dock with my feet dangling over the edge, over the boat. My pulse quickened, and not in the way it usually does when he’s around.

My fear shot up as I climbed in. I was white knuckling it for quite some time before I started to relax. It did get better, but just as I was breathing normal and starting to enjoy myself, a bunch of dark and ominous clouds rolled in. I was glad he decided to take the boat off the water, as I wasn’t prepared to weather a storm out there.

We climbed in the car and ate our lunch, then enjoyed the drive home, stopping for shakes. (Which I must say are so much thicker than I’m used to here)

With him, I seem to enjoy everything. I was able to look my fear in the face, purely with the reassurance that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me.

And I know, he wouldn’t.

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