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Collisions, Rockets, and Gravity

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We collided; breath heavy, hands uneasy. The split second before the collision, my heart screamed through my closed lips, warning me of possible danger ahead; enter with caution. I fought back the instinct to run, pressing forward, unsure of myself but sure of the need to crash, whatever the ensuing injuries might entail.

We were a rocket. The realization hit me at the same time his lips did; the fire beneath us had finally sent us accelerating at a pace comparable to the speed of light. Passion consumed us - so violently some would call it a desperate display of a great love. I had never felt so airborne - the feeling sent a wave of understanding towards Icarus. The momentary recklessness was surely caused by the defying of gravity and the sense of empowerment it gives a person.

I was defying gravity; with his hands buried in my hair and his breath hot on my ear, we were soaring into space. Once launched, at the moment of collision, the world came to a still while we raced forward. Unstoppable and irrevocable, 'me' and 'him' ceased existence, while 'us' took prevalence over everything.

Accelerating - to milky ways and galaxies unknown to scientists - higher than any intoxicated human had ever been - we went up
and
up
and
up.

We collided; breath heavy, hands uneasy. And it only occurs to me now that the worst collisions leave lasting injuries that don't show themselves until much later. Crashing into something - into him - was no exception, and months later I am just beginning to see the bruises and feel the aches that come from slamming into something that has no give or no intention of cushioning the fall.

I defied gravity. And I thought I could get away with it - breaking the law - but just as there are consequences for speeding so are there consequences for flying. Icarus paid the price, and so must I. It is impossible to outrun the world; it always catches up with you, and when it does it expects you to be okay with it. Reality is unavoidable, yet largely ignorable for a certain extent of time. The problem lies with the consequence of ignorance and the unveiling of the truth.

We were a rocket. A fleeting, powerful, irreversible explosion, but therein lies the quandary. The ephemerality of an object filled with such a vast amount of force, and passion, and potency is not capable of prevailing. A rocket is doomed to fall. It's a common piece of elementary physics. After the fall - after the explosion - I wonder whether there was enough beauty in it to justify the debris that remains. And I question the recklessness of my supposed need for a rocket - I feel now that I should have searched for a candle instead, something non transient and unchanging.

You can attempt to outrun the world, but you can never attempt to run backwards, farther into it. You can attempt to slow the clock, but it is always ticking at the same pace. You cannot have even a small amount of ignorance towards consequences of collisions and conventions of the natural world. They bring an unprecedented amount of elation - filled with fire and ice alike - but the recovery from such a high is not worth three hundred rockets. Don't defy gravity. Don't collide.

Search for a candle.



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