13 September 2015
What would I be without you?
Have you ever closed your eyes while on a swing? You no longer can see the way the swing moves and the way the world reacts to it, you no longer see the view or the green grass that is so far below you as your body is frozen in the air for a fraction of a moment before you come hurtling back towards the puddle where many feet have trodden. When you close your eyes, you feel it. You don't know where in the sky you are or how close to the ground, nothing is material anymore. You just feel your stomach drop when the swing drops and momentum pulling you forward as the breeze tugs your hair backwards and you feel the strands tickle your neck. This summer, I didn't worry about the material. I didn't worry about the flowers or the green grass or the way the wishes of a dandelion land on my cheeks or the way when a stone lands in water, ripples spread and spread down the river to someone new, and although these things are beautiful to look at, or share with others, I didn't. I did not just witness these things. I felt them.