Out of Time

It's been said so many times, "Always tell the ones you love how much you care, because it may be the last time you will be able to." or "Cherish everyday like it was your last."
   It's cold in here, under the plush of the blanket and the sheets are rough, but my pajamas are made of silk and make my skin itch.
   I feel out of sorts, torn between reality and wishful thinking. My heart is beating fast; so fast I can hardly breathe. My chest is tight and it hurts when my lungs expand. My eyes are heavy...so heavy; the lids are closing and my heart is racing faster and faster until I can no longer feel the bed beneath me. And now the ceiling is coming closer, until I can make out the tiny particles in the grainy tan paint and my mind feels free; free to make choices and free to feel unburdened by my life of pain and misery. Yet as I rise higher and higher and vanish through the ceiling, the silver clouds part and I am one with the moon and it is coming closer...closer still. So close it hurts my eyes and stuns my mind.
   When I bring my hands up to my face, the skin is transparent and it feels so good just to let go.
    I am weightless, floating on gentle waves of an invisible ocean. I am cool, my skin without hurt and cool to the touch.
   I am flying...
   I am free...

   Rest now, my friend. One day we'll see you again.

-C.