You see, I found myself in a place I knew I was logically capable of pulling myself out of. But I couldn't quite bring myself to actually leave. And so I was angry at me, for staying. And angry at life for bringing it to me in the first place.
I know, I'm the queen of vagueness. Just hang in there. Or don't...really, I just need to get this out of my system.
So, where am I now? You know that dramatic part in a movie where someone is hanging off a cliff and you think to yourself--if they can only reach that hold to their left, they're going to make it--and then they do.
Well, my hand is reaching.
Short story. One day, I took my daddy rock-climbing. Being my daddy, he was scared out of his mind for me, probably cursing the day he had encouraged me to love adventure. He waited at the bottom for me to clear a rock face, but it had rained recently, and I was having a hard time finding a way to clear the last stretch of the rock. After wedging myself for a few minutes and resting, I decided if I could just reach for this hold I'd been eyeing, I would be alright. At that moment, I shut down my T-ness and jumped to catch it; it was dry, and solid, and exactly what I needed to finish my climb. Thirty seconds later, I was on the top, wondering why I would ever let my fears keep me from such exhilaration.
I'm jumping, and I can feel it...in my bones. I know I've calculated the distance accurately, and I know that falling isn't an option anymore--I will find something to hold on to. I know what the top feels like. I know that getting there, my fears will seem small and insignificant.
Forgive me, for I have been angry. And in my anger, I've lost sight of a lot of things.
Rage is blinding, especially when you pretend it doesn't exist. But my show is over. The audience is gone.
So here it is,
End scene.
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