The air in Vancouver is colder, crisper, and cleaner than it was just weeks ago. It is beginning to smell of evergreen trees and wet grass, of frosty driveways and wood smoke. The tiny hairs on my arms are prickling right now. My fingers and toes are numb, and my pajamas have turned from a tank top and boxers to sweatpants and t-shirt. As the months grow colder, I'll probably wear a sweatshirt too, and socks to bed.
I have this fixiation with keeping my bedroom window wide open no matter what the weather is like outside, as well as my ceiling fan on high speed. I need to breathe in fresh air. I need to feel warm under my blankets, warm against the cold, cold world residing outside of my fleece and comforter and stuffed animals. I can always hear water dripping from the gutter, and I can hear the leaves rustle on the tree outside my window. When it's pouring rain, the drops smash, crash, pound against my rooftop, and when it storms, lightening streaks in front of my window panes, so close that to touch the blinds will gives me an electrical shock.
My favourite time to go jogging is in the pouring rain. It's then that I can run forever and not feel a thing. Water streams down my face, soaks my hair so that I am brunette and drenches my clothing down to my bra and underwear. When it rains I feel as if time has stopped, like humanity has run inside to security while outside the world sheds its tears. When I am outside in the pouring rain I feel a part of this earth, I feel a part of God.
I have these urges to jump off the ledge outside my window. I want to just let myself fall forward and remain suspended in the air, not descending but not rising, just floating, feeling the cold air sting my cheeks and water my eyes and tangle my golden hair. I want someone or something to keep me up, so that I do not fall the 8 feet or so to the ground. I want to glide in the air, like an angel, turn on my back and stare at the sky and open my arms to whatever is up there, or whoever will take me.
...why is this reminding me of my desire to float in the cold ocean, on my back, staring at the sky...
What does all of this mean? I had a dream last night I was a prisoner of war, and that Cody was the soldier who captured me. He tied me to an inflatable raft and dragged me underwater until we got to an island where he let me free...
...and I wasn't the least bit scared of him dragging me through the ocean.
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