Walking.

They’ve tried to prescribe drugs, force me to take tests and shove needles into my lanky arms. It’s funny how sometimes the answer is there; right in front of your feet, literally. Walking in this case, is the answer to taming things in my wild forest of a brain. It temporarily takes the hate away inside me, and I’m able to make peace with myself.

At least, for a little while.

I let the wind wrap around me, wishing it would carry me amongst the foggy clouds so I could be as dark and lost as they were. Things would be simpler that way. 

I trotted along, thinking hard about  my blue converse and how they scuff against the rough granite. They are getting beat up, so I would need a new pair of shoes. This meant I would need to go to the store to get new shoes. I would need to ask a clerk for help behind the desk. I would have to speak to the clerk helping me. She would have to talk to me. Maybe we’d be friends.

I’m going to get new shoes.

I stopped walking. No I’m not. God, I’m dumb. I can’t talk to people. They’re going to think I’m crazy. I am crazy.

Here we go. Tears spilled down my cheek bones. The hatred had come back unannounced, ruining the glimpse of light I’d seen at the end of the tunnel. I sped up my pace and fled toward Brooks St., ready to hide under my bed sheets that were more of my home than my apartment was.

So focused to get back to my house of white cotton, I barely noticed a man sitting on the curb, holding out a tin can. I almost tripped over him but stopped abruptly, causing the contents in his tin can to hit my shin and spill everywhere.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, tears still jumping off my eyelashes. I bent over to pick up what I had spilled, but then felt his hands on my cheeks. My first instinct was to punch him in the face, until I realized how long it had been since someone had touched me. The warmth of his hands pierced the coldness of my heart, and I felt numb. He looked at me, and I held his steady gaze. He spoke.

““Fear? What has a man to do with fear? Chance rules our lives, and the future is all unknown. Best live as we may, from day to day,” he said. Oedipus. I remembered the line from when we read the play in high school.

“H-have a good day,” I muttered. He just smiled at me, but that was better than a thousand words. His smiled held faith, faith in me that I knew no one had held in me for a long time. His words played a steady beat in my head as I continued walking.

What am I to do with fear? Why do I let it beat me everytime? I let my cowardness rule over me when it has no power in the first place. I stopped on the sidewalk, and turned around. I was going to the shoe store. Pushing out the lurking fear of having another spell.

It’s funny how sometimes the answer is there; right in front of your feet, literally.