You ever catch yourself somewhere that you never expected to be, and something about it all just feels wrong? Like you got there so quickly that you should be counting your blessings, but you don't cause all the nuance hasn't really caught up yet? That's what I feel right now, though not much else. It's like all I could muster and hurt was left on the doorstep and refused to come along when I drove home that night. The tears kept coming but almost felt silly. Immature. Because everything was so resolute. There will always be a million and one more things I could feel or say, but there's no moment more to waste. Like I said to one of her friends that I passed this afternoon- I gotta keep carrying on and making it work.
The season is in full swing for the last time. When the crowds call out from the sidelines, all I hear are seagulls calling. My job has taken off with clients starting to come back to me with interest, seemingly as soon as I leave my phone on my bed or loosen the tie. I check my voicemails and hear the ocean. People have obstacles that they need me to help them conquer and I feel leaves brush my legs. School is kicking my ass with due dates eluding me almost too quickly. Wind picks up though I stand in a lecture hall. It all feels like I see other seniors riding the waves, quaint on a humble boat. But then there's me, in a dead sprint through ankle deep waters and tourist litter into a horizon I am unable to see. The sun shines bright red, curling behind the water and casting light that blinds me. Vegetation of all sizes and colors hang longingly, swaying form the cold sea breeze to brush at my skin. I'm wearing no shoes, cuts from ankle to cheek, drenched in sweat, running. My muscles aren't tired, I cannot seem to feel them. I keep going faster and faster. The sweat burns my cuts and eyes but soothe me during the breezes. Seagulls caw petulantly, just barely missing my footfall. I've not the slightest idea where I'm going, but steadfast and hungry, I'm running like I'm trying to beat the receding light.
My running dream flashes to me every instant my mind isn't indisposed. When I brush my teeth, step into a shower, walk to class or hit a pause in conversation- it's there.
The running is both encapsulating and scary, but I can't afford to stop.
The season is in full swing for the last time. When the crowds call out from the sidelines, all I hear are seagulls calling. My job has taken off with clients starting to come back to me with interest, seemingly as soon as I leave my phone on my bed or loosen the tie. I check my voicemails and hear the ocean. People have obstacles that they need me to help them conquer and I feel leaves brush my legs. School is kicking my ass with due dates eluding me almost too quickly. Wind picks up though I stand in a lecture hall. It all feels like I see other seniors riding the waves, quaint on a humble boat. But then there's me, in a dead sprint through ankle deep waters and tourist litter into a horizon I am unable to see. The sun shines bright red, curling behind the water and casting light that blinds me. Vegetation of all sizes and colors hang longingly, swaying form the cold sea breeze to brush at my skin. I'm wearing no shoes, cuts from ankle to cheek, drenched in sweat, running. My muscles aren't tired, I cannot seem to feel them. I keep going faster and faster. The sweat burns my cuts and eyes but soothe me during the breezes. Seagulls caw petulantly, just barely missing my footfall. I've not the slightest idea where I'm going, but steadfast and hungry, I'm running like I'm trying to beat the receding light.
My running dream flashes to me every instant my mind isn't indisposed. When I brush my teeth, step into a shower, walk to class or hit a pause in conversation- it's there.
The running is both encapsulating and scary, but I can't afford to stop.
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