This Could Be Paradise.

I had to get out of my house. I had to feel something else.

So, I took my bike out at 9 at night, and rode around this sleepy neighborhood.

I took out my trusty IPod, I hadn’t forgotten her. She had my favorite songs in one place, my soul in other words.

This road, that I had trodden since I was 4, was the same. The twilight made it more beautiful, the street lamps show me my shadow is running as fast as she can to get me. I pedaled harder, she would not ruin this moment.

I had to get away from this house, away from this hurt, away from the darkness that taunts me when I’m alone.

I turned the volume as loud as it would go. It became the soundtrack.

The song I found in middle school started to play. Paradise. 

I pedaled as fast as I could, down the main road. Then I let go of the handle-bars, and closed my eyes. My hands, ran against the humid breeze. I was a bird. I was flying into the sun, like a brilliant Icarus, and just as fast as it happened my wings melted. I know this sun was set to rise, this could be paradise. 

And in that moment, I promised myself, I’d make it.

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