“There’s something so raw and energetic [about] allowing yourself to live.” –Michelle Fitzgerald
Fiction. Based on a True Labor of Love.
By Bry LeBerthon
This journal entry is inspired by true events. Some of the characters, names, businesses, incidents, and certain locations and events have been fictionalized for dramatic purposes. Any similarity to the name, character or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional
Warm water, inviting, laps at my shoulders and chest as a struggle to keep my head and mouth above it.
I work at treading the water and staying afloat, keeping pace with all the other swimmers around me.
my legs grow tired.
I imagine stopping, letting my limbs grow leaden, sinking like a weight to the sea floor. I picture what the wet sand at the bottom will feel like between my toes, what everyone else will see as I vanish beneath the water, what it is like to not have to constantly gasp for air.
instead, I kick my feet up.
I float, arms and legs extended on the surface of the water, and allow the current to carry me.
I do my best to shut my eyes.
in some ways, I miss the satisfaction of sore legs. being able to compare my speed to others. the knowledge that, by resisting the current, I was taking the fastest path towards our shared goal.
but I look up instead of ahead and around, I gaze at the sun and the clouds, and I know the view is so much better from here.