Last night I visited the place where my deepest fears lived.
The setting was simple. A urban wooden themed resort filled with the most tranquil of waters.
But the only mode of transport was this gigantic blue rollercoaster that spanned across the lake. I’d never seen it move.
This place doesn’t have a name, nor do I wish to give it one. It’s been years since I’ve been back there and last night, I relived it all again.
The thing about this place was— it looked calm, serene; peaceful. Yet it was the place I feared the most.
It was a place where the birds did not sing and the crickets made no sound.
In this place, I am never in control of my body. All I could do was feel. All I felt was fear.
Fear of the calm waters, fear of the silence. Fear of the nature surrounding me and that rollercoaster that once strapped in, I just felt trapped.
There was no exhilaration, I didn’t even remember the ride.
This rollercoaster brought me to a place where there was just 3 stepping stones jutting up above the deep blue waters.
The next thing I know, it was just me; standing on that faithful stepping stone and the edge of the blue rollercoaster track taunting me.
It was just ever so far out of my reach to climb my way back up to safety.
I couldn’t do anything. Helpless, deprived. I never wanted to feel anything like that again.
I had to make a choice, jump for the track and climb back to safety, where evidently failure would result in my impending doom
Or skip around the steps and never move from the place ever again.
If fear had a sound, it was that silence that surrounded me as I stood helplessly on that lone stone.
I wake up and hesitantly breathed in the sweet morning air as I lay stunned beneath my blanket.
Perhaps this was a lesson, the one life taught me yet I forgot. The motto I lived by—
If you can’t have it, then you don’t need it.
Silly, silly me. How could I have ever forgotten?