mikawei
She couldn't believe that she was just seeing the first butterfly of the year; it was already May. She wanted to chase it, to catch it, to hold it and just stare at it, a rare sight now but one that filled her memories and was so close to her heart. The first butterfly of the year-- she hoped it would not be the last.
I jumped. Not off of a building, not out of a moving car, but I jumped. It was one of the biggest moments of my life.
After not being able to move my legs for months, such a simple action felt like I was flying-- I could have jumped an inch off the ground and still felt like I was floating on some amazing cloud.
"You really want to eat steak again?" I asked, blinking a few times involuntarily. We had just eaten steak a few days before and-- we both knew-- we couldn't afford to eat twenty dollar pieces of cow more than a few times a year.
"Yeah, think of it as a sort of celebration."
"A celebration for what?" I thought as I shrugged and picked up my car keys.
"Here ya go, sweetheart," the waitress said as she slid his breakfast to him. She chewed her gum loudly, waiting for a response, but the man continued to stare at his newspaper. She rolled her eyes a bit, guys like this come in every now and then, turned on her heels, and walked back behind the counter.
"It's a deal then?" You shake his hand, knowing that you can't come back from it once you do. You just made the deal of a century, of your entire lifetime, and yet you feel like a traitor for it. The words of your best friend keep echoing through your head: this deal would be made "at whose expense?"
She felt herself freeze in place. She couldn't even move her head to see what had come up behind her, but she thought she might be okay with that. Her breath started to pick up, started to appear like billowing clouds in front of her, and she realized what it must be.
He looked down at the stack of papers on his desk, sighed slightly, and looked out the window across from him. A chair could break through that, easy. One jump and the papers wouldn't be his problem. One little jump and-- a knock, a sigh. "Come on in".
She ran through the streets, jumping over holes and hubcaps, unable to stop until she reached the end of the path. The city had been leveled in front of her eyes and there was no telling if whatever did it would be back. She had to tell someone-- she had to tell him.
My levels of motivation have been horrifyingly low, to the point that getting out of bed almost deserves a full round of applause from the audience of my life (otherwise known as any unwilling spectators). Combating motivation monsters have become my only task, but when one is fighting against lack of motivation, what are they really accomplishing?
She was a veteran of concealing her feelings while listening to others go on about theirs, a veteran of caring more for others than she had ever cared for herself, a veteran of suffering silently because she felt she deserved no more, and now she was going to become a veteran of being happy, of holding onto friends and letting go of negativity.
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writing since 2014 · 16 entries · 16 days shown up
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