I’m done. Done with everything that my life is right now. I’m drowning in mediocrity, if you can even call it that. And I’m taking my last breaths before I go under.
But I’m not done yet.
I know how to swim, and as soon as I ditch the rocks tied to my feet pulling me down, I’m on my way.
There’s something inside me screaming to get out, saying, You can’t keep doing this! If you do, it will imprison you forever!
I don’t want that.
So I’m out of breath, but not dying. I’m just sprinting for the next, more fulfilling part of my life.