01-29-2021, 11:14 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 40%; text-align: justify;"]frustration.
he kept getting so close, so close that he could taste it but he never got there. it was a frustration that built so steadily, making him feel ready to burst at the seams, like he might explode. each step felt like it was his first, each day having to relearn because he never quite new what his joints would feel like or what he'd feel like doing. that day, he just so happened to be done. done with feeling like he was never going to get this done.
he was angry, angry that he couldn't go and do the things the other kids did just because he wasn't "ready", whatever that meant. he was perfectly ready, and anger was great motivation. he'd started his journey far too early into the morning, and he didn't stop. he didn't stop if he tripped and fell on his face, didn't stop if his feet began to hurt or if his ankles felt like the bone was being ground raw at the joints. really, the only thing standing between him and the entrance was air, especially this early in the morning, and he wasn't going to stop.
he was lucky that no one caught him.
out of the many times he'd tried, the many times he'd been grabbed off the ground and carried away from the main entrance, the one time he didn't, there was no crowd. there was no adult trailing behind him like he was a lost child who needed chasing down. it was a lift, one foot in front of the other.. end destination. why was it so easy this time? he stared at the entrance, half expecting one of his dads to come and scoop him up, tell him he's not ready, he didn't know. one lift, two lift, one foot in front of the other twice over, and there he stood.
outside of camp.
twenty more paces out, and he stood in a puddle of mud, staring in awe at what he'd always stared out at, like he'd never seen a tree before, like he'd never rolled around in the mud within camp. it was just different when he wasn't in the confines of it all. there were no alligators waiting to chomp down on him like he'd feared, no threats, just the sound of the birds waking up as the sky turned blue and the sound of puddles shifting and catching the raindrops that dripped from the leaves above, left wet from the showers the night before.
now came the hard part.. turning around and going back.
but he wasn't ready quite yet, so he sat back on his haunches, and closed his eyes. "wow.. that was exhausting."
he kept getting so close, so close that he could taste it but he never got there. it was a frustration that built so steadily, making him feel ready to burst at the seams, like he might explode. each step felt like it was his first, each day having to relearn because he never quite new what his joints would feel like or what he'd feel like doing. that day, he just so happened to be done. done with feeling like he was never going to get this done.
he was angry, angry that he couldn't go and do the things the other kids did just because he wasn't "ready", whatever that meant. he was perfectly ready, and anger was great motivation. he'd started his journey far too early into the morning, and he didn't stop. he didn't stop if he tripped and fell on his face, didn't stop if his feet began to hurt or if his ankles felt like the bone was being ground raw at the joints. really, the only thing standing between him and the entrance was air, especially this early in the morning, and he wasn't going to stop.
he was lucky that no one caught him.
out of the many times he'd tried, the many times he'd been grabbed off the ground and carried away from the main entrance, the one time he didn't, there was no crowd. there was no adult trailing behind him like he was a lost child who needed chasing down. it was a lift, one foot in front of the other.. end destination. why was it so easy this time? he stared at the entrance, half expecting one of his dads to come and scoop him up, tell him he's not ready, he didn't know. one lift, two lift, one foot in front of the other twice over, and there he stood.
outside of camp.
twenty more paces out, and he stood in a puddle of mud, staring in awe at what he'd always stared out at, like he'd never seen a tree before, like he'd never rolled around in the mud within camp. it was just different when he wasn't in the confines of it all. there were no alligators waiting to chomp down on him like he'd feared, no threats, just the sound of the birds waking up as the sky turned blue and the sound of puddles shifting and catching the raindrops that dripped from the leaves above, left wet from the showers the night before.
now came the hard part.. turning around and going back.
but he wasn't ready quite yet, so he sat back on his haunches, and closed his eyes. "wow.. that was exhausting."
☼ tags | updated 1/1:
[b]but the heart was there ,[b]