At sea

The sea comes in. The sea goes out.  
I breathe out. I breathe in.  
You are still there, patiently waiting on the beach.  
I am floating just off shore.  
I lost one of my oars and am flailing around with the other one.  
I look up and see you bleeding.  
I know I have to get to you.  
The oar is not going to work.  
I let it drop into the water.  
Swimming panics me.  
I slip into the cold water.  
My breath catches. My eyes sting.  
I start to swim.  
I'm not getting very far, I'm doing it wrong.  
I look up. You are slowly bandaging yourself.  
This calms me slightly and I seem to be making progress.  
Will you still be there when I reach the sand?  
You call out to me. It gives me strength. Not far to go.  
I collapse into your arms.