Balloons as a base

I walked away. I was sleepwalking. I walked outside as if I might be right back and then I walked down to the creek as if I might be fetching water and walked on to the railroad tracks and down to the shed and further along until the night came and I was just walking without thinking, blocking any thought or intention.

I wanted something sure to rise up and tell me how to proceed. I had no idea what could resolve it. My brain was useless before this next thing, this human feeling I felt flare up as if I could burst into flames and eject the great force of life that strained in my chest.

I had to race away or die at once, the great urge to offer myself entirely in service to her. If I could survive the flames coming from my chest and my head, if I could dampen all thoughts and burn off the fuel through my feet, then I needn’t ask to be with her anywhere she chose, serving her in any way.

I will not dream she might return these attentions. I can’t take it. If she loved me in turn and we held this great ball of lightning between us, I would explode. I was not made to take this. Whatever lymph humans use to store this juice, whatever wires channel it through the system, whatever clog, whatever reserve, I lack it all.

I am like a length of branch stepped into a fire to burn right through the middle and fall in two halves.