Near Death

The tire was brand new too. The worst.

The tire was brand new too. The worst.

My car tire exploded on the highway today. My long-held fears of dying in a high speed car accident came uncomfortably close to being real. I pulled off on the left shoulder, on a curve in the road, and that was almost the worst part. Anyway, between punching the hazard lights and tossing the gear into neutral, I didn’t have time to check my mirrors, or think about anything else. Then I was on the roadside with my face in my hands, cringing and crying each time another car sped past, hugging the turn at top speed.

It was weird to have an empty mind. I didn’t have a moment of profound realization or regret, flashbacks to other times or people. It happened very fast, and when it ended, I was left feeling a strange solitude wrap around me, like everything I have done belonged to me alone, and if I died, it would all die with me.

Of course, I’m fine. Roadside service came and helped me put on the spare. I lived.

So far, nothing has changed. All my plans are still scheduled. My stories are still incomplete. My relationships are the same. My worth hasn’t changed. I’m not calling old lovers, or distant family members, or settling debts with peers. The daily death speculations have shifted a little, but that will pass. I am continued. The time on the shoulder of the road, leaning into the sway of the car created by speeding traffic, has occurred. Now I’m home in my single apartment, surrounded by material extensions of myself, and I feel something else–something gone. All my windows are shut, but there is a draft coming from all over. The usual clutter is strewn, but everything has shrunk. Corners in pillows seem dented and weak. Chipped paint on the walls expand to reveal more color, older color. Is the carpet puling away from the edges of the walls? I do not know that this exists, but I know where these feelings come from. I thought, for only the 2nd time in my life, that I was actually going to die, and I didn’t.

I want to share what I have, maybe so I feel something else next time I’m terrified. Maybe only so I know people saw I was trying to give something back to the world–trying to give back what I have taken from it. So I give you a new story, because we deserve it, and I need it to survive.

Come over October 11th, at 8am and read it. It’s not about what happened today, but the themes are the same. And if I haven’t told you I love you lately–I do.

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