I don’t remember being born, but I guess no body does because it is a memory that slips away from us as we age. But I remember where I came from–my father is a small yet admittedly tough shelled mollusk from the pacific and my mother was the heart and soul of the entire ocean, and I am the pearl born from their pure love.

The truest of Pearls are nacreous in form, smooth and round, with little to no marks, and cast an iridescent luminescence where ever they may be.

I used to fantasize about the day where I would be one of the few pearls that would make it out of the ocean and get to explore what was beyond the blue depths. That day came and it went.

I saw a world so different from mine, one that slowly destroys itself with greed, expresses anger destructively, and wages wars against each other for no other reason but to fight. But I also saw a world that loved without fear, lived without regrets, gave so much of itself back without asking for anything in return.

I’ve lived through many different lifetimes and explored more than my fair share of this world, but after a century abroad, I am ready to return home. No matter how old I may be, I know my mother would wrap me with her magnificent waves that have hypnotized travelers of all kinds and carry me gently back into the sea.

I look back at everything I’ve been through and realize that most of us hurry to grow up and move far away, only to come back to the places they’ve left behind because it brings them the most comfort. Home is where the heart is, and my heart is with the ocean.

As I step closer towards home, the water gives me a touch of coolness that immediately wraps around my body and pulls me in. I follow without resistance as it swallows me whole, taking all of me. I take one final breath and let go of all my inhibitions, letting the ocean consume me.

The next time I awake, I will finally be home.