I was falling.

Crashing, burning, flaming like a meteorite with a one way ticket to the Sun; I was so vividly alive, but yet, so incredibly numb. I was thriving, I was dying, I was so many oxymorons at once. I was a beautiful explosion, bursting into near nothingness. As I was hurling closer, the flames licked my face, and I remember the moment I forgot how to breathe.

Suddenly, I was one with the Sun. I was a lover of His light, and nothing more than a striking ray against the immensity of space. My Sun was just a glowing dot among the billions of suns in our galaxy, all their own extraordinary story, but yet, He was everything. He was my religion; my Sunday morning tradition. I sat front pew at every sermon. I embraced my love and my guide all in one, but then,

I was falling again.

I fell into an abyss unlike anything I’ve ever known; numbness and pain enveloped me, and I was simply stardust. I slipped out of His fingertips, into the rocks below, and as I was descending into the great beyond, I realized;

I was alive with Him; I was thriving on the pain of His grasp, and every moment I was with Him I was so wonderfully and intoxicatingly alive, but yet, now, after it all,

I was falling towards a trench I never knew,

I was plunging into the unknown,

I was crashing into fear.