I feel something that I don’t understand, yet totally get.

It’s become a habit for me to run, strive and perform, mostly for things I feel nothing for.

Why?

Because running, striving, and performing help me show the world that I’m capable, that I belong and that I count. I’ve known this bullshit reason, for ages; I just never dared to admit it.

Until now.

But what am I admitting to?
Is what I feel true?
Or am I going crazy?

I don’t know.

Luckily, Steven does. As he and I sat by those emergency stairs, he recounted going through a similar experience, and he’s happy for me that I’m now going through it too.

‘Mundo, this is what Yaiks is about. People discovering themselves.’

I’m happy for Steven he’s happy for me, but for myself… 

I feel laden with a not-understanding-it-but-totally-getting-it feeling, more profound than anything I can remember feeling. I also still feel relief, even a hint of rejoice—as if on the brink of an adventure I’ve been longing for all of my life.

And I don’t know what’s going to come.

I’m scared.