Everyone is rowing towards the never ending horizon.
Some people have two rowers in their little boat, others have a family, others are alone but friends help them row occasionally.
Elle is alone.
She has dual rowers all around her.
Her friends are alone.
They help each other with the burden of rowing sometimes but can't leave their own boat unattended for too long.
Elle has her eyes on somebody. A friend of hers. Sometimes, she'll wave at him as he rows by. They talk. But she's noticed where he's looking— at the horizon.
She's always looking around her boat, her friends, her family, the horizon, him. She looks everywhere.
Sometimes, he'll help her row, but only when she asks him to. Whereas Elle looks to help him row as much as she can because she looks at him even when he isn't paying attention.
She's trying to stop looking at him so often, trying to focus on her horizon, but without him there's nothing much to look at. She's constantly reminded that she doesn't have another rower. She's getting tired.
She wants to break her oar and stop trying, just letting the waves capsize her and drag her away. She wants to stop caring.
Her friends have the same problem but they keep going. They don't care if they don't have another rower, even though it hurts sometimes. They just keep going.
She feels pathetic. She looks at the surface of the water and sees her reflection. She should keep going. Inevitably, it'll break her but she doesn't care anymore. If she's meant to row on her own, she'll keep going until she can't anymore. That's what everyone else is doing. That's what she should do. And that's what she does.
It'd be nice to have another rower though.
Oh well..
