20, 50, 65, 90 kilometers per hour. The speedo needle moved quickly to the right.
All I could see was red. Dark clouds filled my head. A cerebral thunderstorm.
A bridge was up ahead. I crossed the white lines. Back and forth, back and forth. They looked like zebra stripes.
Sadness in my soul. A deep, deep sadness.
Car lights up ahead blinded me for a second. I kept going, the engine roared.
Saturated with frustration. No end in sight. An internal fight.
“If I just ride off this bridge,” thoughts of suicide filled my mind. “All the struggles will be gone, I will be done. Another rotten soul forgotten.”
Yet all the while a small glimmer of hope burned deep within me.
The handle bars on my bike turned towards the edge of the bridge. One quick crash. A moment of pain. For reasons the flicker of hope burned a little brighter, I turned the bike back, away from the edge of the bridge.
Hope, an unquenchable flame. Jesus.
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