In the rain.

08/30/08
         I stared up through the ceiling at a million stars.  This place is so vast; I realized how meaningless my life is.  I realized while the prospect of getting caught seems all important to me, in the universe it would mean literally nothing.
         So I crawled out of bed.  I pulled on running shorts.  I slipped into shoes, not bothering to tie them.  Then I kicked them off, deciding to go barefoot.  The closest exit: my window.  Right after clearing the blinds I remembered the blinking red light of the alarm.  What if someone woke up, did I dare walk past my parent’s room to disable the alarm?  Yes.  I didn’t care.  I’d stopped caring.
         I safely returned and the window slid to the side.  A kick popped out the screen.  I gracefully climbed out of my room and into the world.  I was standing on the side of my home, and I could see my neighbor’s window.  His lights were off.  Was he peacefully asleep, or was he as I was just five minutes ago; was he staring at the ceiling, thinking about ways he could avoid thinking about life?  Or perhaps he had escaped tonight too, maybe everyone at night escapes to a place of refuge.  Maybe we just all keep it a secret from each other, because we think we’re alone in our suffering.
         It was raining. 
         That realization freed my thoughts from the dark window and back to my mission.  I turned around and carefully closed my window, before starting a slow jog towards the conservation behind my home.  After heading for a while I reached a thin path, my friend and I had found it a while ago.  I guess I was planning on going to the path again all along, even though I hadn’t really paid attention to wear I was running.  So I followed the trail just as my subconscious wanted me to.  I wasn’t afraid.  What would my death mean?  In the history books they never mention a person like me.  I am insignificant and unimportant.  If a bear came and mauled me, I would be in the local papers for a while, and then soon enough my name would be replaced with someone else’s.  So I jogged along, not caring at all about bears.  The rain was lighter in the forest, the trees caught most of it before it could reach me.
         And time slipped away from me.  As my body did the running I wondered about people.  During that day I’d passed so many.  Are they happy?  They smile and laugh.  Me?  I smile and laugh.  On the outside I am genuinely content with this world I find myself in.  Then at night I try to close my eyes.  As the rest of the distractions slip away, the throbbing pain arises.  It is much less pronounced than my ‘happiness’, but I still know it is much more important.  The sadness I’ve been ignoring so long, ignoring my whole life, is etched into the deepest part of me, and while my surface emotions flow and fluctuate, this part of me is always there.
         And always will be.
         I’m in a clearing.  And now my canopy protection is gone and I’m hit with the full storm.  The rain is pouring on me and my hair is torn up by howling winds.  I’m gone now.  I’ve lost all sense of anything outside the tiny, tiny fragment of the world that’s in my vision.  So miniscule it is when discussing the whole world, so even more miniscule when discussing the whole universe.  Yet I lose all recollection of anything outside the clearing.  I dash to the center.  My knees hit mud.  Thunder slams into my ears, and lightning flashes across my eyes.  I am not afraid of bears.  I wonder if my neighbor is sleeping.  My friends smile and laugh.  Are they laughing at me?  What am I doing?
         I am screaming.