you are submerged once again. Guilty for your brief ability to breathe.
Over time the water levels drop.
First you tread water; then you swim; then you wade; then you are paddling; until finally you are walking alongside a stream. It flows next to you. Wherever you are, whatever you do, however happy you’re feeling, it’s there.
But sometimes, be it a song, a crumpled shopping list found in a coat pocket, an anniversary, their birthday, your birthday, Christmas, hearing the theme tune to Coronation Street, which you’ve avoided ever since, the stream becomes a river, becomes an ocean and you are drowning once again.