You Ask Me Why I, "Went for a Ride"?

You ask me why I, “Went for a ride?”, with an inflection in your voice torn between disgust and mockery? Because I was still breathing and I wanted to see. See what was left of me. See if I could see.

I am alive so I can experience life. The good the bad, whatever comes my way.

My ride into the wind. Because I was tired of feeling there was no end insight. I wanted to be alive or die in the fight. I wanted to know why I was still alive. I wanted to know why, my heart was still beating. I wanted to know if my mind was leaving. I wanted to just ride away.

See for the last time, My Way. Miles and miles living off the land. Days, weeks, months, holding on and learning to loosen my hands. Every time, the time came, somehow, I always rode away.

Wanting to live I was lost in my head. This beautiful world I am in, I was not yet dead. The sun washed away the darkness from my crown. The green of the trees, the breeze, my heart back on my sleeve. I now understood three of me, as I sat listening next to a stream.

But I was still to forget what brought my pain. Time to ride on. Time to ride away. Time to start climbing what would not go away. Higher and deeper, kicking my feet to plug the holes. Grasping at cracks. Struggling not to fall and fade away. Trying to put it all together, little by little I moved beyond. Higher and higher. I am over that rock that would not go away.

Now I ride because of the happiness it brings. The Journey of it. The people in between. Now I climb in the peace of it. Fluidity. Now I smile with light in my eyes, no longer faded.