The Apogee

You throw something up in the air. For a second, it doesn’t fall.
It doesn’t fly either.
It just hangs there, like the universe glitched out and forgot what comes next.

Not crashing.
Not rising.
Just stuck in that dead space where choice is just a word and gravity’s off somewhere taking a smoke break.

That’s me right now.

Stuck.
Just waiting for physics to remember I exist and drop the hammer.

And honestly, it’s not even the worst thing. Like, yesterday I went out to gas up my car. Wouldn’t unlock. No lights, no horn, nothing. Had to use the actual key, like it was 1995. Tried the radio, ignition, lights, air...

Nothing.

Battery’s dead. Cold killed it. No drama, no warning, just that hollow, frozen silence that makes you feel like an idiot for thinking it’d be any different.

A week ago, I would’ve snapped.
Cursing the cables. Ranting about errands. Acting like the battery had it out for me personally.

Yesterday?
Nothing.

I looked at the car.
Looked at the sky.
Turned around and went back inside.

Didn’t even bother to be mad.

Sometimes shit just is broken. And honestly, that’s fine. The world can wait. I’ll deal with it when I feel like it. Right now, nothing’s worth spiking my blood pressure.

And I go to work, and try to fill my eight hours with something in the background.
Music.
Scrolling.
Just noise on top of more noise.

None of it sticks.

Silence does.

Silence is the only thing that doesn’t try to bullshit me.

I’m not broken. Not all the way. Not yet.
But I’m worn thin in a way that doesn’t show. The days keep swinging at me. Sometimes they land, sometimes they just leave me emptier. I’m stuck between getting hit and running away, staring at the mess like it’s not even mine.

So I breathe.
And I wait.

The drop’s coming. I can feel it. Probably sooner than I want to admit. Maybe that’s the deal. Maybe this floating feeling is just the warning shot.

Maybe this is what people mean when they say “midlife crisis.”
Or maybe it’s just another spot on the side of the road. Another place to kill the engine and sit there wondering what the hell comes next.

Something’s shifted. I can feel it under my skin. Like the air changed overnight and nobody bothered to say a word.

I don’t know what it means.
Maybe it doesn’t mean anything.

For now, I’ll just let it drag me wherever it wants.
I’ll see where I land.