Existing on an In-between

I am sitting on an in-between. Not really sitting. It’s more like floating, but with less movement. I’m in-between semesters, in-between years. I’m even in-between states, nearly on the state line of Idaho and Oregon. I’m half-way in-between my 20^th and 21^st birthdays. It’s like I’m stuck at the top of the big hill at the beginning of a roller coaster. Anticipation is nagging at my stomach, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up and bristle in the wind. I’m sitting right in the middle of the roller coaster car, and I can’t see anything. I have no clue of what’s up ahead except for what I’ve seen from the ground, but that perspective isn’t going to do me any good. I am caught up in the moment of now—so caught up I don’t know which way is down.

At least with a roller coaster you have some kind of security. This in-between is unruly and abrupt—overcast. The longer I wait here, the more its decay is revealed; the more I am able to uncover its flaws. I’m beginning to see the rust eating away at the wheels on my car, freezing it in its place. Soon enough the wheels won’t be able to turn at all. I see the holes in the floor of my car becoming so big my feet begin to fall through. I see support beams failing on the track behind me, unhinged and bending. My world is falling apart.

I lean forward in a panic, shouting at the empty cars in front of me. I can feel the track sway in the wind, tilting from side to side. Its groaning is getting louder and louder, each creak sends chills up my spine. I scream once again in desperation, begging the car to move forward. I can almost feel the momentum building up inside the string of cars, or is it merely within me? I strain my ears, listening for the sound of screeching metal. I wonder why the car won’t just break free.

I take a look outside of the car and down the side of the track. I snap my head back up in fright. The hill was higher than I thought. It shouldn’t be possible, but it seems as if I am thousands of feet off the ground. It is as if I am looking at the ground from an airplane. Even that doesn’t describe it. I can’t see the ground, can’t make anything out. Nothing is clear. In truth, it’s as if I am viewing the past as I look down. Instead of an amusement park below me, I see memories. One small, bustling building is my freshman year of college, the other my senior year of high school. Another larger building is built with the memories of my family. Looming low to the ground is a dark building, seeming to contain the memories of relationships gone wrong. With a shiver, I try to shake away all of these memories. I consider once again my options of escape.

I knew I couldn’t remain up there for much longer. I also knew I didn’t want to return to the past. In a sudden burst of wind, the track was pushed to the left, leaning dangerously toward the ground. With an unhealthy amount of adrenaline and an unexpected dose of faith, I quickly climbed out of my car and into the one in front of me. This new determination refused to be pushed around—to die. I pushed back the screaming fear of plummeting to my death and began climbing from car to car, wiping the sweat from my hands and tears from my face, until I reached the front car.

Unable to see past the sudden fog I offer a small but mighty prayer. I scoot down the side of the car and grab hold of the track. I cling there gripping onto the cold metal with all the strength I can muster, refusing to open my eyes. After what seems like an eternity, I scrape up my leftover courage and slowly open my eyes. Nothing has changed. The wind is still blowing, the track still swaying, my heart still pounding. I try holding back the tears as I lift myself on top of the track in front of the now abandoned car. I wrap my arms around it and bring it into an embrace. Never before had I been grateful for the large metal beast.

As I lie there, hugging the roller-coaster-type track, I gain a sense of security. I had escaped my cage and was now free to roam about as I wished. Though the fog hasn’t yet cleared, I am free. I look down and see my memories, my life laid out so beautifully below me. I no longer fear what is coming, what obstacles are yet to come. I am free. Free of this in-between. I am free, and on my way to the future.

*Photo courtesy of the "Bridget Callahan is Your Best Friend" blog