Sometimes i need to remind myself that the closest i came to obliteration wasn't caused by being too down, feeling lonely, or distressed. Yes, I've been there, and it was horrible, and i prayed for my heart to stop. But part of me always wanted to live. Always believed things would even out.
What ended up being more dangerous was the opposite: the times i thought i had everything figured out. The world was on my side, and no harm could come to me. I felt invincible.
One such instance was after the first standup comedy show after the COVID lockdown that began in March 2020. A lot had happened. One of the most prominent and long-standing hosts had passed away suddenly at 36. Another up-and-coming comedian and show producer also passed away, even more unexpectedly, at just 24.
We were gutted.
The lockdown was lifted and we were allowed to return to the dive bar where a group of 8-10 people met weekly to do standup. The rule was, we couldn't walk around, we had to sit, so the area in the back was set up like a banquet table. It felt like someone's birthday. One by one, familiar faces joined the long table.
I don't remember anyone's set that night. I don't remember there even being an audience. It was all about us finally coming together again. It was jubilant, yet restrained, the sting of loss not far from anyone's mind.
I left the bar feeling elated from reuniting with my comedy colleages who'd be the most stable part of my life since I was 17, regardless of how they felt about the weird chick always hanging around.
I was walking on clouds, all sunshine inside though it was nighttime. In my head I played back the night, an afterglow of glee running through me as i stepped off the curb. My muscles seized, subconscious taking over as a metro transit bus wailed past, inches from my nose.
i would have died happy.