The feeling that i know i have to go, out of habbit... but i'm done. It's over. That part of my life was over yesterday, and has been dead for who know's how long.
I'm just afraid... of my habbit... the walk over, the doors in, the locker room... the water...
What am i going to be doin' at 3:30pm?
Where am i goin' to be?
Was what Pat said right? Should i take his disappointment to heart, when all i know is that he's prolly glad to get rid of me.
One less grl out of 30.
And what will i get out of this new experience... this new freedom?
My wanting of wings...
Will i burn the tips before i extend them?
Or have they just been folded, neatly quietly... contained by my force of will, to be unnoticed. My timidness. My weakness.
So many weaknesses. Flaws.
Will i be able to repare what damage i've taken? I've grown, but i've come unblanced. Whatever pillars that have held me up to the wind have now crumbled.
Now i have to take a running start.
CheZ