The pain in my chest was something I wish upon no one on this particular day. I forced myself on a hike anyway—or because of—hoping the strenuous climb would dismantle the heartbreak.
Yet I felt it all along.
Throughout my dehydration in the scorching heat, the chatter of other hikers, and body aches and fatigue—it was still there. The sharp dagger was lodged in too tightly to give room for any peace.
I had wanted to believe the beauty and awe of nature would heal me. But it didn’t. The pain felt infinite and I returned to my small trailer on the commune only to fall into a screaming fit of tears.
The pain, I think, is still inside me, changing who I am, altering the cells of my body. Maybe some pain is infinite. Maybe it always leaves something behind.
But this dagger, I’d say, is on its way out.
toys of the sun 