I ran as fast as my feet would allow, rounding the corner into the lonely alley a few blocks from my home. Out of breath from my abrupt journey, I stumbled forward, bracing myself for impact with the brick wall. My heart was beating strong, giving a clue that it was still present though I felt like it had been ripped out a few times this week.
I was so tired.
I turned my back to the structure, slid down to the ground, bent my knees, and then wrapped my arms around them. I held tightly to my own hands.
I was alone.
My head fell forward as the tears began to flow. I was in the midst of my own personal storm. The thunder was frightening, and the lightning gave way to truths that hide in the dark.
I was scared.
I couldn’t prevent the thoughts that entered my mind, I could only try to make it through the hours ahead and hope that tomorrow would be more realistic for me. I could usually decipher whether the dark, gloomy sadness was a reason to grieve or …… if the excess energy should be carried out to the tune of a blissful event, something over the top, maybe. But today I was unable to know the difference.
I was confused.
No one would look for me because I only mattered when I was needed. I was good at being useful, worrying about everything and everyone. Lately, I felt as big as the tiny ant I noticed walking across the stones. The thought of the insect’s strength refueled a bit of my hope. I pulled myself up by the concrete flower bed, pricking my finger in the process. I pressed firmly on its tip, allowing a drop of blood to exit the torn skin. A subtle hint of mental relief appeared in the form of pain.
I exhaled.
I would survive this roller coaster, yet again.
Leesa Writes 