You know that feeling when you’re climbing stairs, and suddenly you notice the 3 steps left, and your feet begin to turn to lead, your knee’s begin to hurt, and suddenly you’re out of breath. I’m at one of those moments in my life. The last few steps until I reach my destination and suddenly the sun isn’t shinning as brightly, the music isn’t as loud, the clouds are drifting by, and my eyes become heavy. I suddenly hear the eternal clock within my head. The ticking. The creeks on the floorboard.
I hate the last steps.
Sometimes I hate memories, and the senses, and people, and physicality. Most of the time I long for those things. But sometimes the ability to be alive isn’t as appealing as it usually seems. Sometimes I don’t want to ride in the front of the roller coaster, or jump out of the plane, or kiss a stranger, or blow my money on something I don’t need. Sometimes I just want to crawl within the sheets of my bed, close my eyes, and not even have the ability to think, or to feel, or to dream, or love.
Just take another step, just one more, and know that soon there will be warmth on the skin. If only the top were here…….
