Itinerary

How easy it is, once you step off the ledge. How effortless to abandon an entire life and know nothing of the ground on which you land. But now you have committed to the fall. You have booked the ticket, paid your dues. There is a date, and a time, for your leap, there are official documents and baggage limitations and in the end it doesn't mean a thing.

Because once the ticket was finally booked, all that mattered was the little ember of mad joy that began to smolder in my chest. The stinging sensation of a million sleeping cells beginning to wake, to hear the call of adventure and stretch their senses towards it. Because once that ticket was in my hand, did I not feel, again, that I was alive? 

The windows are wide open tonight. A half moon begins its late August path above the houses; it shines straight at me now. Every moment is suddenly precious, suddenly so obviously fleeting. It is as it always was:

Life
is best lived
mid-air.