Free Falling

Free – falls.

I want to fall free. Sans inhibitions. Sans safety supports. Sans back ups. Sans control.

I remember 5 years ago – at a hilly country club in Thailand. Riding mountain bikes up a killer slope. Just to ride it back down – without holding the handle bars. Leaning back. Wind on our faces. Hands spread out. Feet off the pedals. No safety wheels. No control. Free fall.

One rock, that’s all it would take to make the bike go out of control and skid down the slope along with the biker. But this was overridden by the pure bliss and high that one felt while coming down.

I want to ride a bike down a steep slope, and let go of the handle bars. Again. I want to feel that high. Again.

Such memories and more, from too long a time ago, make me sift through the recent ones, to find one in which, I -

Saw the rainbow colors in soap bubbles.

Lost track of time while talking on the phone.

Ran around in the rain. Basked in the sun. Made ice – cold lemonade on a hot afternoon. Realized that there are seasons – see them come. Wave them good bye.

Went on a long walk and lost my bearings.

Tried to bake brownies.

Fell asleep reading, with the lights on.

Snuck something. Anything. From anyone.

Had a crush. A real one – with the butterflies and the blushing and the nick names.

Hurt myself – in a way that required a band – aid to heal. Only.

Gazed at the stars.

Cried over a book. A song.

Hugged, and forgot to let go.

. and I find none.

I’m baffled by my loss. Because I know they exist. Somewhere in the yellowing pages of the ream, which I locked away, to keep safe.

I’m bothered. Because I didn’t realize that behind those unbreakable locks, I left a part, that was me.

I’m restless because I see them from far, but don’t know where I’ve put the key.