Day Fifteen: One thing I never learned.

I never learned how to swim.

I got it from my mom. She hardly goes out of the house and she’s afraid of deep water, so none of her kids grew up knowing how to swim.

Our dad was away on military assignments for most of our early childhood. If he had it his way, we would’ve been swimming for most of our childhood years because he grew up near the sea.

I’m tall-ish for a Filipino. Five-foot-eight. So when it comes to company or barkada excursions to the pool or beach, I’m not afraid of getting into the water as long as it’s not more than five feet deep. A little deeper than that and I start to get nervous. Close to six feet and I will wade away to shallower waters. I can’t even float.

It’s kind of pathetic, actually.

One time, an ex-boyfriend asked me, “what if I was drowning?”

“I’d be sad,” I promptly answered. I think he never forgave me for that.

Lately, I thought about learning how to swim. But there’s always some excuse or another stopping me. I even bought swim trunks and a goggles to motivate me. But, alas, it has yet to happen.

So here is the fastest way to kill me: throw me unto the ocean. I’ll panic and I’ll drown. And then I’ll turn into a mermaid.

Hah. I wish.