Flight

I'm tempted to run again. Just barely holding myself together. I can feel the panic building, the familiar tension. It's a flight reaction because I can't remember how to fight. He tells me it'll be alright, and I nod and smile, but I think even he can see I'm not convinced - not entirely.

It's early this time. I promise not to think about it, to just let it go, but inside, my thoughts are churning. Why, I wonder, do I yearn to be held back, kept safe, steady; despite fighting it all the while? I used to think that maybe it was the person I was with who couldn't hold me. Now I know better - the one to tame the beast must be me.

But do I even want to? What am I searching for? How will I know?

Treading Water

Standing right at the edge, she watches the waves lap over her feet. It's a cloudy, overcast day, and there's no sign of the sun. The sound of the waves envelops her, holding her close. She can hear shouts, but they're faraway, everyday things, meant to be ignored. Entranced, she steps closer, and sits on the sand, ignoring the water licking at her clothes.

It feels like coming home. She smiles, content in herself.

Dancing on a tightrope

Pushed and pulled by conflicting loyalties, she wonders where this is all going to end.

The choices stretch ahead of her - thin, uncompromising wires - and she takes the first step. She's hesitant, trembling as she leaves the safety of the platform. There is no a safety net, and a mis-step could send her crashing towards - what, exactly?

She's afraid, but this is no time for fear. She forces her body to relax, willing each muscle to yield. It's a progressive softening, an adaptation to her environment. She frees her mind, allowing it to think about anything rather than where she is and what she's doing. She's prepared. She can do this. It's been done before.

She takes a step.

Into emptiness.

Life.

This is where I'd usually write a long, tearful post about how everything sucks and it's all my fault and shit. But to be honest, I'm sick of feeling that way. Life's messy and you don't get it right all the time. Sometimes the choices you make affect other people. And there are always consequences.

But you live through it. I always have. Sometimes with a bit more drama and a lot less will to live. The point is, though, that it always ends. It may come back to haunt you later, but dragging yourself through the mud until then is unlikely to help.

I'm moving on. Maybe I made the wrong choices, but there's f###-all I can do about it now.

I hope we stay friends. Or become friends, considering the current state of things. It sounds stupid to me when I say he means a lot to me, but he does. He's still the most amazing person I know. Strange, huh?