Passing by, waking up.

Jamie Goldstein

Writing II

Prompt 16

“I was just tired of losing... Life was passing me by” –Serena Williams

      Do you ever have those days where you wake up and think about how it’s been a year since you cared about anyone? Before you can even open your eyes, your heart drops and you get that crying-sort of feeling in your throat. You look around and the light is filtering through those stubborn, uncloseable venetian blinds. The whole world is already moving: people on their way to work, to class, to run their everyday errands. It’s one of those days when your heartbeat beats you back to the scene of the crime. 

      You roll out of bed and stumble to the bathroom. You look at your past self in the mirror and it’s hard not to wonder “what the hell happened? I’m no worse, maybe I’m no better, but am I even who I used to be?” The shower runs hot down your back and amid the inescapable smell of Irish Spring is that singular sense of something surreptitious. Maybe it’s something that you don’t talk to anyone about, but you know it's there, just underneath the surface. There’s that feeling of loss, gain, and an undeniable perception of controlled chaos.

      The steam condenses on the mirror and and the person you left there is now just a hazy shape. An oblong, featureless face. Behind the fog lies a million thoughts and feelings and emotions, but despite how hard you try to wipe away the mist, that person you left in the mirror has been passed by. He’s gone. 

      But maybe that’s not so bad. Maybe passing by is just part of waking up.