“Come with me, we have got to run, there is no time left!”
Says anxiety as she grabs by wrists and begins to sprint
“But where am I going? Why the rush?”
Ask I as we start sprinting towards nowhere
“There is no time to answer these questions, it is already late.”
Says she as she quickens her pace
“Late for what?”
Ask I again as I press upon her for a response
“You’re going to lose, you better hurry up!”
Says she with a sense of urgency
“But what will I lose, could you please tell me?”
Ask I as my thoughts begin to race and my heart beats thunderously
“Will I be able to save it?”
Ask I pleadingly, not knowing what I am going to lose
“Will I lose all of it?”
Ask I as worry envelops my body and sends chills down my spine
“Yes, it is probably all of it, is that why you are not telling me?”
Ask I again, certain that I have hit upon the right answer
“Let’s run even faster, we need to make it in time, I will do anything to save it.”
Urge I as I start running faster, breathless with each passing moment
“What if you still do not save it? Maybe you are not meant to save it.”
Says she, taunting me with a smirk
“But I’ll do anything, just about anything to save it. Please let me save it.”
Plead I as I try to run harder, faster, taking longer strides even as I feel the pain
“But what are we running towards, could you just stop for a second? We have not thought this through!”
Urges rationality
“There is NO time, I CANNOT stop.”
Insist I even as I hear rationality and worry get into a dispute while anxiety watches on
“Can’t you see, you’re trampling on things in this hurry, what happens to all the progress we made?”
Begs rationality, pleading me to reconsider
“This is an emergency, we will deal with that later.”
Respond I, not paying heed to rationality even as it starts to creates small ripples of doubt within me
After running for miles, anxiety comes to a sudden halt
“What happened? Why are we not running?”
Ask I, unable to understand anxiety’s actions
“Oops, wrong call, there was no emergency.”
Says she with a glint of mischief in her eyes and no trace of remorse
“WHAT? BUT? This was an EMERGENCY you said!”
Glare I, beginning to wonder about all the damages caused on the way to this emergency
“I never said I was certain! I was just trying to help. It could have been a real emergency.”
Says anxiety, refusing to meet my gaze
As I take a moment to regain my breath, I glance back to examine the damages caused on the way
Dumbfounded by the extent of the damages and unable to face rationality, I turn to look at anxiety to accuse her of causing this mess
As I turn my head, anxiety is nowhere to be found
I feel wetness on my cheeks and as I touch them, a quote from the Old Testament is all I can remember
‘I am the architect of my own destruction.’
