The Fish Bowl

That used to be me.

Swimming around in a fish bowl I had grown too big for and had become too restless to remain in happily. For years I stayed knocking my head against the glass, always grateful when I was able to render myself unconscious and always incredibly shocked and highly pissed when consciousness came back and I was still swimming in the same confined waters.

That's what I see her doing now... swimming around in water that has long grown cold and dank, that has long failed to hold the nutrients she needs to thrive.  Knocking herself unconscious with new jobs, new friends, new hobbies, new cars, new toys and "minor" outside flirtations.

Everytime she comes to, there is a flurry of texts, a panicked phone call, another confession of how close to the edge she is.

What I didn't know and couldn't see was the same thing she is blind to now - the ocean and how close the fish bowl is to it.

One giant leap of faith and it will embrace and sustain her.

I wait and I watch her swim and tire and be unconscious.  I wait for the day that she leaps but I wonder..will I be the idiot who says, "What the hell took you so long?" or will I be compassionate enough to say "Welcome! Beware the sharks!"