I'm sorry. I actually am. It's such a stupid thing to be upset about. I'm surprised at myself. I normally don't let things get to me like this. But much to my dislike, there seems to be a new unfamiliar pattern forming. One that send me soaring, and then (with no easy way to land), comes with the inevitable crash.
Strange that I find the crash to be my favourite part. The comforting part. I crash into normal. I crash into reality. I crash into solid ground. I can regain my footing. I can find the balance and stability that I lost while temporarily floating. Floating illegally against all gravitational laws and principles.
Yes, the crash is okay, the crash is tolerable. It's the crashing that's a little more difficult. The descent that steadily increases in speed as it gains momentum. The "crash" part is easy enough to make sense of. There might be some wreckage, but after the fact, there's all the time in the world to process it. Crashing is disorienting, confusing, and it is utterly impossible to make sense of everything as it is speeding by. There is never enough time to think while crashing, moreover, logical thoughts do not present themselves while crashing is occurring.
I think it is probably easier to fall from a greater height, because then at least, one likely has a parachute, and will likely have time to react and release it. It is not a great height that I am crashing from. It was not high enough to require a parachute, it was not high enough to make me afraid of the height. But it was high enough that I now fear the impact.
I have learned something however, It is best not to confide one's dreams in others. That way, when tragedy strikes, and hope fails, no additional explanations are needed. No follow up questions need to be answered. That way, one is not required to relive the disaster countless times over.
But I am a fast learner. I rarely make the same mistakes twice. And I'm good at keeping busy, so these thoughts will be far from my mind.
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