In my best friend's company, I wrote this: People.

Right now, I am sitting by the shore, with the warming sunrays falling all over my swollen skin and charging It with protons of positive energy. I won’t ask for an umbrella, I will let it penetrate me; I need it. The waves’ sound softly hit my ear drums and I loved their melody, accompanied with the laughs and giggles coming from  the people around me. They are happy, I can tell it from their faces. They are happy, but let’s not generalize because we never know. I watch the splashing waves and get involved with their beats inside my ears. It feels good. I am actually amused because I suddenly have found the answer; it’s nature. All the family members are reuniting together, happily, to have fun and a good swim in the salty water. It doesn't matter how salty the water is because all the talks are sweet and filled with love, warmth and unity. It’s the nature, locking up all the chains and bonds of families, relatives and friends.

 I look around again, searching for someone on their own, like myself. I am not really alone, I have the sea and I can’t ask for a better company. I see that jaded old man on a sea chair, letting the chair feet sink deep inside the warm sand. I am not sure if that was his body weight making the chair dig that deep into the sand, it was his worries ingraining inside his soul instead. His body looks so weightless and his soul isn’t, and I guess that’s why he is here, he might be trying to tell his stories to the sea and let his worries wade into its interminable wading water, just like myself.

I look around again, not searching for anything specific, just checking around and getting bewildered by how all of these people are here in the same place for different purposes. It’s amusing, but the sea is more amusing to me. I don’t know how it does that, but it’s my remedy, after writing. I watch the happy cheerful kids with smiles stretching to their cheeks. Some building their dream castles of sands, while others digging their way down the shore, maybe searching for an illusionary treasure. Their parents look at them with eyes filled with joy and pride, blended with troubles and worry, especially those whose kids aren't on the sandy land, but rather swimming their way through the rising waves. They look happy but I am not sure how am I feeling.

I never knew when to use the word happy or when to tell if I am happy, yet they look happy for me (Except for the old man). The sun is burning my hands now and I am not quite sure how I should end this. Nobody has it all. And these families, they can look happy now but I didn’t explore the universes beneath their skin, so you never know. I might not be happy now, but I am fine. Blessed, thankful and alive. I couldn’t ask for more.

And by my best friend, I meant the sea.