I might even write it out so I can tear it up and throw it away, but most of the time I just write it all down because it's the essence of my life, and life is so damn impermanent. .
So when I packed my bags and left home for school, there were a lot of things I carried with me. The pages that follow contain some of that baggage, some the things I really brought with me. These stories of people, places, and events of my life are the things that needed to come out, needed to be unpacked. I've used writing to help me bring them out, to help me unpack them and here they are on these pages, because they are the stories I've carried with me.
Near Death.
Part I: Drowning.
I can remember jumping up in the middle of the night in sheer terror, only to find out that I had been having a nightmare. It would happen a lot the night before game day. I would dream that I made it to the game and forgot my cleats or didn't have the right jersey, I would spend the entire night in agony because I thought I wouldn't get to play in the game. Once I would wake up though, and realize that I'd only been dreaming, I would begin my ritual of getting ready. .
I always had to do my hair so that not one single strand could have a chance at blocking my vision. .
Then I would put on my uniform. It had to be spanking clean, my shirt had to be tucked in, and my shorts had to be at just the right spot where I almost felt as if I weren't wearing them. .
Next I would sit down, adjust my shingaurds to dead center over my lower legs, pull my long socks over them, and fold them twice at the top. Each girl on the team had their own way of wearing their socks, and that was mine. .
After slipping on my sandals, I would use the memory of my nightmare as motivation to triple check my bag for my cleats and alternate jersey. .
Then I would grab my water and run out the door because mom and dad were already in the van yelling, "Come on, we're going to be late!".