This is a tough one.
There’s no good place to start. There’s no good place to put the voice that’s crawling up from the pit of my stomach. It can’t be stifled down; or it would rot my courage, decay my strength. It can’t be set loose; it would run wild into traffic and topple over the innocent. It would take no prisoners ....
Yet I feel it holds me so; Breathless against the unknown edges of a world I tend to skirt and dodge. Each minute drawing me closer to the ‘Start’, pushes me closer to the ‘End’ of my safe zone.
Stand behind the yellow line.
That’s easier if you can tell where the bloody line is. But if you’re out there, in this world, foundering around amongst the endless noise and chaos and movement, how can you find your place? How do you know where to stand at all?
This is a tough one. All fibres of my being ache for the soft hushed tones of my guide runners. I crave their directions, step here, watch that, stop and wait, okay forward. All comfort has abandoned my senses, leaving them raw and open.
Ten days of over stimulated. Ten days of on alert. Ten days of....
.... I can’t write the story before it’s lived.
All I can do is celebrate the small victories so far. Like today? Today I found the restroom in a Walmart. Today I said the I love you’s. Today I didn’t drown in the fear that seems to be my endless company for 314 miles.
Tomorrow... I will summon the fight from somewhere I’ve hidden it. Tomorrow I will find the fierce I will surely need....
Two more sleeps.