I had my first panic attack rolling over a dirty floor in a Lisbon gas station,
I had gone from actively planning my summer vacation to impending death, in a matter of seconds.
I distinctively remember rocking back and forth waiting for the ambulance to arrive,
when I finally open my eyes to let the world in,
and that’s when I see him…
a faceless man looking back at me, chomping on a sandwich, watching the scene unfold with merry detachment.
this man’s evening had studently become more interesting than what the sunrise had promised. I became his entertainment.
lives continue to be lived, no matter what…
ironically,
this coolness gave me permission to let go and let live.
even more ironically,
what seemed like the finish line, had become a starting line for a life I could have never planned for,
(not matter how good my goal system is)
and while no one is allowed to die more than once, I know that a part of me ceased to exist that day,
destined to remain only in the fog of memory of those that knew me then.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
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