(DA) Floating

I used to be a swimmer.
I used to race on my high school Swim Team.

I was never the best, but I loved it.

I don't swim anymore. I should, but I don't. I miss it. I haven't really swam a true, hard earned race; muscles cramping, lungs heaving, eyes burning from the chlorine, in years but I can still remember the exhilaration of the feeling of cutting through the water, propelling myself forward toward the finish line. I can feel every muscle in my body shaking, I can smell the polyester, nylon and chlorine, and I remember not being able to hear a thing. I never heard the sound of the crowds cheering, or my coaches yelling. Not even my own heart beat. Once that starting gunshot fired, there was nothing.

I remember the silence. At the end of a hard race, arms pumping to get me to that final wall, both hands stretch out and slam the timer pad as I reach that last arm length and my body would stop. I didn't look at the timer, or the other swimmers. Instead, I would close my eyes, drop into the water and float for a moment. I would wait, weightless, soundless, breathless, as the world moved around me and I stayed 'stopped'.

I felt like that today, like I was floating through my day. The world moved around me, and I stayed still waiting for my body to tell me it's time to rejoin the rest of the world, but it never did. I felt, and saw people go by, meals go by, time go by without me as I floated, waiting for the signal to rejoin the group.

-Brandolyn