I will be.

I grasp desperately to the rocky edges.

Shivering, cold from the water that drags me.

I feel the fear grip me ever so tightly.

My heart struggles to beat.

I can not, and will not go any further.

I refuse.

I see the end of the river approaching.

Each breath pulling me ever so closer.

But what exists at the end seems to live just a fingertip away from perception.

Veiled by a thin fog.

For I can faintly discern a pair of cold, empty eyes.

Eyes that seem to pierce any false appearance I try to muster.

Eyes that could care less about the creed, caste, or class of those who dare enter its view.

Eyes that serve as the highest arbiter of justice, for it cares about all, equally none.

I realize now that it was my fear of peering back into those eyes, that made me fall into an eternal daze

Aimlessly drawn to the glitz and glamour of wealth, power, and prestige.

Houses too large to feel sheltered in.

Cars too expensive to comfortably drive.

Jewelry too shiny to safely walk the streets in.

Weekends filled with alcoholism disguised as joy.

Work that exhausts the spirit, leaving behind unfulfilled dreams.

Relationships where real vulnerability and trust are never established.

But I told myself it was all worth it.

See I was well put together.

I woke up early every day.

I ate salads and biked to work every morning.

I invested into my 401K and Roth IRA religiously.

I had one hobby, that I segmented one hour of my life a week to enjoying.

I travelled to Mexico, England, France, Italy, Thailand

Spent one week and 3 pay checks

Came back with 2,000 pictures and a headache.

I had two children, one boy and one girl (obviously)

They both went to Harvard, just as my lovely wife and I did.

My wife?

Let me tell you who she is as well.

But I’ll regurgitate her resume

Because I don’t know her any more intimately than that.

She is 5’10, with beautiful long hair and sparkling white teeth.

She is a doctor in the morning and a lawyer at night,

She has 2 Bachelors Degrees, 3 Masters Degrees, and 4 PHDs.

She upholds unimaginable standards of beauty

Because just as my entire self-value comes from maintaining a marriage

So does hers.

But now, as this current pulls me, I think.

What was the point of it all?

I had thought if I did it all

Revered by my family.

Statued by my country

Adored by many women.

Envied by even more men.

Written down in history.

Then just maybe, the current would have slowed down

And paused for me to make my dent.

My impact.

But I did it all,

And the current still carries me away.

As I take a moment to look around me

The choking feeling of isolation ceases as I realize

That it is not only I who is pulled

But my

family,

friends,

teachers,

loved ones,

the despised

Were all coming with.

I watch as those who I looked up to as my saviors as a child

Float away a few hundred feet ahead of me

Most frantic, with a clearer sight of what waited for them

I look back to see those who I have taught and nourished

Float carelessly a few hundred feet behind me

Their faces light up

With the reckless abandon that only comes

With the unawareness that our river ends.

As I look around more

I find some solace seeing

That the buildings I called home

The universities that I attended

The trees I fell asleep under

The ideas I pondered over

The books I read

The dogs I pet

Were floating as well.

It became clear that the river was not meant only for people.

But for all that I had ever known

And for that I had yet to know

All moving steadily towards those eyes.

As the river narrows

I begin to bump into those near me

People brimming full of

Passions.

Ignored dreams.

Desires.

Neglected loves.

Ideas.

Unspoken Opinions.

I call out to them.

But no one responds.

Always left with a blank gaze.

Perhaps this journey was never meant to be shared cerebrally.

For when the end of the river is referred to in discussion,

The fear of what it may contain consumes anyone

Who dares to think about it long enough.

Yet, for some reason

We can never hear each other’s screams

We only perceive the actions that are manifested out of it.

The pain.

The rage.

The quiet desperation.

For something.

Anything.

To make it make sense.

Perhaps it’s the design of the river

Which makes it an experience that is to be had

Alone,

Together.

I take a deep breath

And find that I can no longer see the familiar faces of my parents

Or those who helped raise me

It has come to be my turn

To meet the eyes which were waiting patiently

This whole time.

I think back to all the resistance I put up

Hoping that this moment never came.

Perhaps, fighting was always a waste of time.

This river inevitably carried me

As it carried all those who come before

And all those after.

To meet its end.

My feeble resistance served to no end.

My refusal simply built up feelings of

Anxiousness.

Anger.

Frustration.

For I had no control over this one area of my life.

I was left powerless.

Had I chosen acceptance

Perhaps I would have

Loved deeper.

Rejoiced the pains.

Cried harder.

I would have been present.

But here I am.

Nearly at the end.

With a heart full of regrets

And a noisy mind full of turmoil.

I am left with a journey spent

Worrying.

Avoiding.

Being selfish.

But here I am.

Perhaps,

The last act of courage I can muster

Is to finally look

Deeply

Into those eyes

That I have been avoiding so relentlessly my whole life.

Before it becomes too late.

I can not go down like this.

I will not.

I will be better I promise.

I will be b…