Own
Coming into your own can be a lot less like the books; it can be turning to find the sun shining down after a dark and stormy afternoon, or remind you of that old friend you ran into that you never remembered but could never forget, but it's really better when it's like falling off a ten story building. It starts out innocent enough, an overly strong easterly breeze or a misjudgment of where you are, and then the world moves so fast it takes you a second to realize the world's standing perfectly still and you're the one rushing sideways. For some reason you find yourself, your life, flashing before your eyes, and it sinks in that some part of you is convinced that life as you know it is about to end. Everything's going by too quickly to grasp; your ears blinded by the air, your eyes deafened by imminent demise, and then, just as suddenly, the world is still again. Sirens, screaming, or maybe just nothing.
Because you get up. And you realize that falling isn't scary, because falling means that the world wants to catch you. All you have to do, is let yourself go. Because you can't get up until you've found something to stand on.
Because you get up. And you realize that falling isn't scary, because falling means that the world wants to catch you. All you have to do, is let yourself go. Because you can't get up until you've found something to stand on.