Running On... JUN/JUL 2017 | Page 45

,automobiles or real estate. To each, his own.

But I feel a weight.

I feel like I am carrying something weighty. My arms are full.

What I have in my arms are more than I could ever acquire in my lifetime.

I do not think I should go to the light with my arms this full. What am I going to tell the light?

My arms are filled with hugs. The hugs I never shared. The love I never gave, dreams I never built. The encouragements I held back for fear of being misunderstood.

In my arms are words I never spoke, the books I never wrote and the songs I never sang.

I carry visions I never shared, towers I never built, paths I never made, and mountains I never conquered.

As I ponder my fate and whether the light will expose my shame, I feel a smack across my face and in a moment I’m back in my body. I sit up immediately. The sobs morph into screams of horror. Then shock. Then joy.

My arms are empty but my heart is heavy. Full.

This is a second chance. Next time the light comes, I will be empty. I promise.