My words scream my concerns, my schedule echoes them, all while my voice expresses the betrayal. Still you respond with “cool,” “nice,” and “just do it.” As if any of this is that simple to me.
It had started like a clown making a balloon animal.
There was the suspense of what the configuration would end up being: a dog, a horse, a princess crown, maybe even a sword. Because only in the world of balloon animals were a sword and a crown counted as such. While the pieces were all being built the imagination was free to form whatever ideas it could muster. Balloons being picked out of a large supply, stretched, warmed out, filled out. Then they were blown up – almost ready to form something larger than itself. Something that was supposed to bring joy to another person, regardless of their age or fears. Because even people afraid of balloons or clowns overlooked irrational fears when given a balloon animal. Right when everything was getting ready to come together, right as the shape was transitioning from an outline to an actually being that’s when the balloons popped, ending all of the fun.