To be honest everything was a mixture of warning signals and ecstasy all together leaving a bad taste in the mouth like bourbon. I once said I’m scared most of passing out in public but I guess fears can’t really be overcome. It’s either it destroys you inside or watch yourself die for trying as hard as you can to accept it.
This is how it happened.
To tell you the truth first, I have never been fond of riding carnival rides, those extreme and gut retching drag-me-up-and-down kind of thrills, something that would nudge my grasping heart out of my ribcage and leave me no air to breathe. My entire friends in this part of town called me the Scrooge of our annual Town Festival and branded me as prehistoric ‘cos I would rather go solo on a merry-go-round than have a blast with them with those striking and levelheaded good-looking boys they try to dally with. Trying to get their attention and lead them on those rides that were way too out of my comfort zone and way too awkward to sit with a guy I barely knew.
It was more than just coyness and Agoraphobia. It was for the most part because of two inherent fears I couldn’t overcome – loud noise and falling.
However boy, you happened…and with each fleeting moments I found myself openhandedly surrendering in to your gravity, with each short-lived seconds I can catch my heartbeat becoming so loud it’s all I can make out of all the screams and giggles and yelling and laughing. Through each momentary flash I saw your arm reddening from the tight grip of my hands because of the fall and rise, the numbing of our knees from bumping together to look for reassurance, clearly I was throwing off the safety signs, and now I find myself struggling past those dreads I used to have just to be with you.
Darling you are way, way, way out of my comfort zone. And when I say “way out of my comfort zone” it means asking for another round with the fast-paced as if a mixer sort of Ferris wheel, defying the height as I go ’round in circles’. I was prepared and willingly requesting for another shot of those self-induced vertigo although woozy is all that it provides me – I will never want to climb down. It means permitting my throbbing and frail yelling heart to drown and mask all my senses. It means giving in to the deafening roar of everything in between us and the blinding lights I can make out from the pinnacle I am at the moment with you.
And it means overcoming the fears they say we were born with — loud noise and falling.
But Darling, we were just a carnival ride, and in the end we are bound to close and stop. After you left me, all I heard was my cardiac muscle trashing and begging and loudly screaming and breaking from the fall on the summit where you left it.
For one more moment I felt the ear-piercing noise and the eyeful of lights in between everything as I passed out with all the unaware pair of pitying eyes out in the open. After all it was still my fear that destroyed me inside and killed me for trying hard to embrace you.
Words and photo by Chard Christopher