I stood at the end of the runway this morning. The sky was clear blue and the sun was warm and I could have lifted off in flight. But I turned away.
There’s only so many times you can be thrown down by the slightest gust before you realize it’s no more than chemical slight-of-hand. There is nothing profound or sacred in my flights of fancy. Nothing real.
Get your inspiration somewhere else. I’m stepping out of these wings. Narnia’s only a fairy story, there is no happy ending, Santa stuffed the easter bunny.
This is the big one, I fear. I’m not getting out of this one easy. It was just a trip that sent me down; but I’ve already fallen farther than I’ve been in a long, long time.
There’s something down here with me, and I don’t think it will accept propitiation.
Woah! Big word. /me goes off to look up propitiation.
Hmm… I like it.
You are down there. Waaay, waaaaay down there. You’re sitting, and you hear something enter.
You look over and see me. I glide to you with a somber face, kneel down next to you, and bury you in my arms, holding you.
You say to me “but wait… why are you here? Are you depressed too? I hope you didn’t make yourself feel this bad just to help me.”
I say, “No. I’m here so much, they just gave me a key to the place. I can come and go as I please. They know me here.” /me looks over her shoulder at the gloom and shivers. “A little too well.”
I continue, “No, I’m here to be with you, to help you through this. I know this territory like the back of my hand. Let me help you.”
I reach out my hand. You put yours in mine. We walk off together.
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