Sailing with Me

So I sailed off to sea, bringing my boat and paddle with me.

"Ugh," the boat complained, as I pushed it further away from shore. He said the sand was too spiky, scraping his back. Then he fell silent the moment his entire body floated in the water. It soothed him I suppose.

"Brr," the paddle complained, as I slowly dipped her into the water. She said the water was too cold, the opposite extreme of being exposed to the sun in most days. Then she swayed as I paddled. Up, down. Warm, cold. It balanced, I suppose.

Everyone was happy for a while. My muscles have just started working. The boat was humming with the waves. The paddle played 'hide and seek' with the fishes.

Then the sky darkened. It rained. The wind got stronger and the waves were bigger.

"Agh," the boat grumbled as he tries to stay atop the waves. He was sick to his stomach going up and down. His back was hurting. And he would have liked it to lie on his side. If only I wasn't there.

"Argh," the paddle screamed as she tries to keep up with my speed. She said I was holding her too tight. She felt like breaking apart. And she would have liked to break and swim away. If only I wasn't there.

Then the sky cleared. And we all reached the island. But no one cared.

All the boat could think about was the next trip to sea and how it would hurt his back so much. Meanwhile, all the paddle could think about was the heat of being dried in the sun and the iciness of being submerged into water. And sadly, all I could think about is the guilt. Why do I have to sail off to sea and bring the boat and paddle with me?