I feel so helpless, powerless, once again, I am not the one carving out my own path. I’m a passive passenger on a crazy ride, being driven towards to edge, the end of everything.
The driver- the one I call Fate sits coldly by, deaf to my pleas, blind to my tears. The doors won’t unlock, I scream at Fate to step on the breaks, get me off of this path before it’s too late but to no avail. As the last words are pushed from my mouth the car lifts…
we soar over the edge and into the pale sky, a graceful arch beyond the clouds, until we start to dive.
The ground is so far away, everything infinitesimally small, a perfect black bullseye in the middle of the gully seems to call to me.
Please, no, I know that place, I’ve been there many, many times before. we’re careening towards to ground faster and faster, my breath is being ripped from my body, tears are streaming from my eyes, while the hole gets larger and larger until it fills my entire field of vision.
It’s the pit of despair. The bottomless chasm of pain, depression, isolation.
Resigned to my fate, I look over to the driver as I brace for impact and see me…
Wide eyed, frantic, clutching at the door in panic, my mirror image.
Was I the driver all along?