Escape.

by tatjannam

Of all the stars and all the planets, of all the forms and shapes I could have been when I was put here, I sometimes wonder why it was this one I was put in. Sometimes, dreaming can be so challenging. I feel like I could just give up, I think of how simple it would be to lie there, letting the grass tickle my legs watching the world from a bugs angle, watching as the sky spins by relentlessly on it’s simple task of turning dark to light. I wish I had that ability, I wish I could just take all that is wrong and make it right, create myself a dawn that I could sit under peacefully and just not think.

Something is missing here, I don’t know what or where I will find it, but I can sense now that a clock is ticking somewhere in the back of my mind it clicks relentlessly, counting down the days, hours, minutes until whatever it is, finds me. In my mind, I remember a moment from my childhood and there is giggles and laughter from the two of us (my sister and I), I still taste the sea spray as it lingers as a fog over the shore. I can feel the sand, each fine grain scraping against the next between my toes, I can feel the temperature as the gentle breeze kisses my skin. High in the air above me there is a kite, Red with a yellow band, it twists and turns excitedly, out of control but kept up there by some unseen force. And my sister, tiny fingers grasping the air as she ran across the Oregon beach, the rocks in the distance, the sunlight, the green cast of the trees, everything…I was happy there. It is my place, my place of hope, my place of tranquility when the world around me cannot be. When I cannot force my camera to think for me. I close my eyes, let the tears come, tears for a past I didn’t choose but I lived, tears for each moment I can’t change but learned from and tears for moving on and not looking back, and as my eyes slip shut to make this reality go away, I see that moment.

My heart is filled with sorrow, I feel like I keep reaching with a warmth that will not be returned. I feel myself more and more reaching for that place to get me through each ache. When I was a kid, I was always the last to the metaphoric parade, As an adult I think I was just late growing up. Some of that was intentional, I loved the thought and the feeling at looking at the world through new eyes, If I could look each day and see the world as a different place, then all the hurts of the day before are cleansed, all the wrongs forgiven and forgotten, and that is how you move on. You just see with the love, the trust and the honesty of a child. Reality comes hard, it’s not like a scrapped knee or cut finger. It’s like a paper cut on the space between your finger and your thumb. It burns and it lingers, you wonder if it will ever heal, no reassuring scab to know it’s healing and it’s just there stinging and glaring and not letting you forget. And it’s those moments when it’s the hardest to see through to the other side.

Tonight I’m missing the people in my life who have been my glue and are not here anymore to hold me together. I feel needy, not a typical trait for me and that feels even worse. Ick! But I know it’s a moment. Tomorrow the dawn will come and I will greet it with the same vivaciousness I have in the past, the dark hours will be forgotten when the sweet amber glow climbs above the horizon and gives the warmth I was needy for. But as it does that clock still ticks. I wonder what it is I am waiting for.

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