An internal compass inside me spins. It scares me how fast it is going. And, frankly, I have never felt this dizzy since the day after I quit smoking.
The decisions I make from this day forward will ultimately change the trajectory of my future. I know this; and yet I still can’t make up my mind where to go from here. The only thing keeping me from saying I can’t do this anymore is, well, the thought of actually having failed at something. I’m learning day by day that life isn’t something you can study for.
I see an escape and I want to take it. As I walk closer to the door I have this anxious feeling at the pit of my throat. There is such an intensity emanating from my mouth. A wretched feeling I truly would never wish upon my worst enemy.
I want it to go away, but more importantly, I want to direct this god-forsaken rush of adrenaline from my face to my toes. I want to turn off my mind and let my feet carry my two tattered leather duffle bags and me away from your apartment.
I feel despair envelop me in a second coat above this heat. I look down at the ground and it is moving. I feel like I see the bottom of my heart beneath the floor. I’m at the doorknob now, jostling my fingers around…with you crying for me to stay.
They say nothing hurts as bad as the first time they do this. And, well, they were wrong.