The Rollercoaster
To live in such a happy place
To then come crashing down,
In the blink of an eye.
What a wild ride.
Would you buy a ticket?
I wish someone would have asked me, as here I am, riding this endless rollercoaster.
Soaring between love and pain, ecstasy and agony.
I don't remember buying my ticket, queuing up, and I clearly didn't strap on my seatbelt.
How do I get off? Please, someone stop the ride and let me down, let my feet feel the stable, concrete floor. I need to feel grounded. I never feel grounded.
But wait, now I'm soaring. High above the clouds, I feel untouchable. I have wings. The air kisses my face and I feel so magical, so free. This, this is living.
Maybe I'll stay on a little longer, actually. I stop to wonder, what would getting off actually feel like?
To not feel these helpless, hopeless lows sounds like heaven, but to sacrifice the feeling of euphoria, of indescribable happiness.. could I give that up?
I didn't buy my ticket, but neither did anybody else. I look across the park; thousands of people just like me, on rides of their own. Some laughing in delight, some screaming in terror. Not a ticket in sight.
Would I choose another ride? A pointless question, as I swoop and fly through the air at a dizzying speed yet again.
I realise then, the dips and the swings are coming, even though I can't see them yet. And as my hair whips around my face once more, I throw my head back and embrace it.
When the terrifying drop looms, I hold onto knowing that soon enough I'll be soaring again, carefree and joyful.
And I enjoy the ride.