I am beginning to hear my own footsteps while pacing back and forth, they are like echoes in my mind. My tired mind, I keep beating it with questions, thoughts, and on going what if scenarios. My imagination keeps traveling to his past, a past I did not live, but it is vivid in my mind. My mind. It is like a home in which he lives and I keep visiting over and over again. I want it back, my sanity, my mind.

I am not one to believe in miracles, but I swear that rainy afternoon in the air, I was living one.

I grabbed his hand really tightly, but this is not a romantic story between he and I. This a romantic short memory of the air and how it carried me all the way across the country. Although I was inside a plane, with only a small window as access to the outside, to the copious white clouds, I was flying. I felt as free as the birds, and I was the only one in sight. I was no longer jealous of the birds for flying, I had finally realized I too can fly, and from then on, I will do it more often. I will fly, fly away to the noisiest cities, the hottest beaches, and the coldest mountains. I will fly, and again I will be the only one in sight.