I am a battleship

(a metaphor)

I am a battleship.

When I was young, I used to wonder what I would be. I wondered what job my creator was preparing me to do.

I thought maybe, I was to be a cruise ship. A vessel destined for fun and pleasure. Traveling to strange and wondrous places. Or maybe a merchant ship. A huge powerful machine working tirelessly; making the world work. Crossing the seas and oceans carrying goods and enabling the lives of others to move forward.

But no. He had something else in mind. I am a battleship.

Every wave I encounter is either on my way to the next battle or in retreat. Around the edge of every harbour is danger. I no longer wonder what lays ahead of me at the edge of the horizon. I know. A fight. It’s always a fight.

My creator trimmed me out well. I have resources and armaments. I have guns and even a white surrender flag. I may be terrifying to look at. But I am prepared.

At some point in each foray, I wonder if this is the war that does me in. Always expecting my hull to take on water and sink to the bottom never to return. It isn’t fear anymore. It’s resignation.

As I limp my way back to safe harbour, hoping for a small respite to repair my broken pieces and ensure my frame can sustain another fight, I see the looks I receive. I see the shock and dismay. I see the judgment. The other ships wondering why I don’t take better care of myself.

But they don’t see me during the battle. They don’t see my guns firing and my willingness to go into the middle of the fray. They see me after. They can judge. They can sneer. They can even despise me. I don’t have time for that. I can’t care.

I have another battle to fight. I guarantee that.

Because, … I am a battleship!