It was nothing like anything I had ever done before. The feeling was unique to that moment. I especially loved being on the back when Mark was driving. He had my life in his hands, just like he has my heart. The metaphor was simple really and all too perfect. Gliding through the air at a speed like that, no one but him and fate to protect me. Something may seem a bit macabre about having life on the precipice of death only to be on the precipice of the meaning of life. A beautiful simile: to be free. Feeling free and reveling in it; an all consuming propulsion outwards into what we know as the world. Extrovertion commandeers; while the weight is shifted. Freedom comes in all different ways, no matter how it comes about. One may never be free from themselves, condemned always by a rooted fear deep within. Once those nightmares shatter and the veil dissipates, it is like a new day arrives with a glimmer of what it means to be free. I'm bound by the chains of fear and pain, illness and worry. For a moment in time, I break free from those bindings to discover the me that is underneath the surface of darkness. Although perhaps it is brief, it summons a rising hope. For the future may hold a permanent freedom, a final peace to have and to hold all the days until the end.
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