what to do

it's like an ice rink. you're gliding along - there's the occasional bump, but nothing to fret about. you steady yourself - arms out to rebalance yourself - and with another stroke you're sailing again. the air is crisp, not cold. the snow falls lightly. you look up and through the starlight, you feel as though you're twirling - like one of those cheesy movie shots - the worlds opens up lovingly around you. you take in a breath and smile, because - you're happy.

but then - someone speeds speeds by - you're spun one way, then the other and for once, you can't resteady yourself. even though you were being careful, even though you were looking over your shoulder - keeping yourself aware - you fall. you never thought you'd be here - but, sometimes it doesn't matter what you do - sometimes the world shifts, things change ... and you're left to pick yourself back up and figure out how to move forward.

you sit up and brush the frost from your knees and check your hands for scrapes. the crowd continues to skate by - laughing, giggling - but sidestepping you. on the ice, the air is suffocating. you look up - expecting a hand - but know that the hand you need is not there. but you can't sit there and wait for something that will not come. it's time to get up - even if you have to stumble.