When I was young, I practically lived on the swing in my backyard.
Hours upon hours were spent back there, swinging my little life away. It was the one place I could go that no one could touch me. Far away from school where kids could be cruel and made me scared every morning; far away from the telephone where harassing prank calls seemed unavoidable; far away from anything and everything, including my own sad feelings.
Just me. On my swing. In my own little world where I felt safe and happy.
In less than two months I'll be 27. The swing sets are long gone, but the grass still doesn't properly grow where I spent all the days of my childhood.
I miss it terribly.
Because some things really never change...
I still use it as a kind of therapy.
It still makes me happy, almost child-like.
And it reminds me of how that frightened little girl is now grown up, but still doesn't have all the answers.
So I swing to clear my head of all the cobwebs, and I remember how to be happy.
Just let go, and reach as high as you can.
Eventually both feet will be on the ground again.