The Anchor and Me
All my life,
I was told I was a rock—
that others leaned on me,
that I was the point they turned to.
But I never truly felt that.
So I never knew.
I was less a rock,
more a vessel of the sea.
I offered safe passage,
showed people sights they’d never seen.
That was me—
until the current pulled me
to the unknown, the uncharted,
where waves thrashed and broke me,
where I was challenged
beyond my capacity—
and I was destroyed.
Every so often,
I’d find my way back
to calm waters—
just long enough
to catch my breath.
Then the storm would come again.
Then I met you.
My anchor.
We go on journeys together now—
not to escape,
but to explore.
With you, the sea doesn’t scare me.
The winds still howl,
the waves still rise,
but I don’t feel alone in it anymore.
You hold steady when I drift.
You keep me grounded
when the pull gets too strong.
And when I’m ready,
you lift just enough
for us to wander,
to float,
to dream.
We drift out,
pulled gently to sea—
and always,
we return home safely.
My anchor and me.
Without him,
I’d crash—
wrecked on sharp truths
and sleepless tides.
And without me,
he’d stay on the shore,
watching the horizon,
longing for the sea,
never knowing the wonder
of the journey we could make together.
