Olivia - Anticipation

There’s that rare occasion of anticipation that’s actually not quite so rare anymore.

It’s the moment of hoping it will all be normal and yet wondering how it ever could be.

And breathing becomes foreign. Rhythms are shattered. Oxygen.no.longer.exists.

Because this is the difference between life and death, in a certain kind of way.

It’s the initial impact of atmosphere that will tell the rest of the story.

That will lead to either one of two endings. There is the occasional welcoming back of
circulation to all parts of the body. Or there is the expected continuation of deprivation of
security.

Although the two are so deeply different, they all end up intertwining in the end because
experience knows that one will never exist without the other soon to follow.

I hope you know that it’s not a question of want, but need. Not alive, but present. Not beside, but
with. Not me, but we.

Olivia, age 17.2109