Running

My entire life, I’ve been running. 

Running away from everything that terrifies me. I’ve avoided so many internal conflicts, it’s torn me to pieces. 

I imagine myself in the same situation, every time:

I’m running. It’s hot. So fucking hot. 
I can feel the beads of sweat crawling down my temples, under my arms, between my blistering toes. I’m running, still running, as fast as I possibly can. My chest feels tight, I can barely breathe, but I don’t stop - I can’t stop. 

The landscape around me is completely barren. The only thing I can see is the golden-brown haze, miles and miles of it. Cliffs all around me, jagged rocks, mirages so tempting, I’m thirsty. I want to stop, I want to breathe, but I can’t end up like the others. I won’t step off of the beaten path before me. I refuse. 

I am all alone. 

The wind blows against my skin, but it does not relieve me as wind should - the warm breeze throws hot sand into my eyes, and my face stings with regret. I should’ve stopped, I think, I should’ve stopped. 

I look behind me, still moving forward, and suddenly, it stops. My feet are no longer treading dirt and sand. I’m falling, I realize. Oh shit, I’m falling. 

My vision is filled with blue, all blue. Nothing but this big, beautiful, sublimity of the most genuine blue I’ve ever encountered. I lose my stomach. My arms feel weightless against the open air. I can’t breathe at all, but I don’t notice, nor do I need to. The resisting breeze hits my sweat like ice, and I’m freezing. I’m so cold, and it feels so nice. 

I’m out of the desert. I can’t make out anything below me. I don’t see the ground. I don’t see trees, I don’t see birds, I don’t see any signs of life. 

I’m okay with it. 

I close my eyes and let the wind whirl my hair around my motionless body, thinking, I don’t know. I don’t know anything, anymore. 

When I finally hit the water, it doesn’t sting. It submerges me. 

I never knew, I realize. I never knew.