I’m on a roller coaster.
I rode my first one in Hersheypark almost four years ago with my then-boyfriend. We then rode the second-steepest roller coaster in the nation. Fahrenheit, with its 97-degree drop, transformed my breathing into a scream.
He and I went on to Darien Lake together that summer (2009) and rode all of the coasters in a matter of hours.
They’re thrilling. The chug-a-chug of the climb, the intensity of the sudden plummet. The world dissolves beneath the tracks and you feel like you could fly right off into the clouds.
I’d give anything to fly off into the clouds right now.
I remember a poem I wrote several years ago that goes like this:
“Everything’s the same, but I have changed / I’m different now, rearranged.”
I feel rearranged. I’m still me, just different.
On my drive back to school over a week ago, Taylor Swift’s “Begin Again” popped up as the first song. It’s odd how well it fits.
I’m beginning again this semester, in more ways than one. I’m still me, just rearranged. Revitalized. Reawakened. Reusing bits of me from the past and repurposing them. Replenishing.
I love roller coasters, but this one needs to get back to its station soon so I can get off.