1.9.18

you ran the red light. but you didn't run it in a rush, you weren't racing down the boulevard in a hurry, eager to make it. you cruised through it, slowly, almost deliberately, but you simply just forgot that red means stop. I saw it happening in slow motion, but I didn't open my mouth, I didn't dare say anything. it's amazing how quickly my mind jumps to the possibilities, all of the scenarios containing the same ending. running a red light, a car crashing into us, either your side or mine, airbags deploy, screams escape our mouths not knowing they had been hiding inside of us. the thought of death seemed so easy just then, so much better, even if it wasn't at my own hand, within my own control. I wasn't the one holding the knife, or the gun, or the bundle of pills, but in that moment, I was okay with death happening simply by happenstance. I didn't know I could feel like that, so calmly accepting it. I was ready in that moment, and I hadn't felt this feeling in such a long time. I felt so content to speed up the organic and inevitable process, because why not?
but none of that happened. instead, you just acknowledged it was a red light once she pointed it out and you laughed it off. I laughed it off too, but I only did it because I realized how much I was screwed.