Stealing Surfing

I'm hurt… deep down torn, at the very core of who I am. I’m feeling as if everything I am, is cheapened, and stolen from me. My identity has been stripped and processed into a mold where it can be re-produced at the flip of a switch. And it all started with three words; “yeah, I surf”.
The threesome of words entered in my ears, bypassed my brain and stuck firmly in my heart. It was so casual, so easy to say, and so hurtful. As surfers we are separated from the masses and connected with the ocean. When someone infringes on our connection… we feel used. And when someone utters a phrase that we certainly know to be untrue, it hurts.
I can’t explain to him what he just said, and how much he has affected me by a careless choice of words. I lower my head and try to swallow the rising lump in my throat. Fighting back a flood of emotions, I’m using a surge of self-control to keep from hurling a barrage of expletives at this poser.
But at the same time I stop, take a breath, and realize something. I can’t explain to him why this hurt me so much. He won’t understand. He has never seen the beauty, the perfection and the power of the sea. And in a way I dint want him to know, surfing is mine, don’t steal it from me.

ross