24 Tokens

There are labels to how I've been feeling. Depressed. Desperate. Alone. Heartbroken. Angry. Frustrated. Betrayed. Defeated... Do I really need to go on? Yet those descriptions barely even touch the surface to what's going on inside of me. I'm a whirlwind of emotions and insecurities and I'm too much to handle for the best of everyone, including myself. Desperate to release some of the pent up rage that's festering inside of me I made the decision to go to the batting cages after work.

Best decision of 2011.

Five dollars and I was handed 24 tokens. I grabbed a a crappy, overly used bat and walked down to the the softball cages. I skimmed the signs looking for fast pitch but I couldn't find any. Honestly, I didn't look very hard though. I was too anxious and uneasy so I just hurried into the last cage at the end. I put the first two coins in, pushed the black button and waited for my pitch. It came, and I swung and I missed horribly. I swung way too hard and way too soon. I yelled at myself to be patient. The next pitch came and I felt my muscles contract as I held my reflex back from swinging too soon. I swung again, and I hit nothing but hot Arizona air. My temper got the best of me and the next few pitches I swung furiously forgetting everything I knew. Tears swelled in my eyes and I felt like quitting but I liked the muscle ache too much. I'm too sick and out of shape for this kind of exercise. I went to put more coins in the machine and I took a deep breath. I began to beat myself up, telling myself that I was just a failure but I chose to stop. Yeah, that's right. I chose to stop. I put the coins in, pushed the button and got into a perfect bunting stance. I laid down ten perfect bunts. Five down a pretend third base line, five down first. I'm not a slow pitch softball player. I played fast pitch softball. I just needed to relax and get my timing right. I needed to breathe. I waited for the next pitch, counted in my head, and made contact. After that, I didn't miss a pitch. But it was more than that. I smacked the ball. Every pitch delivered with that perfect ding of the metal bat. I couldn't stop grinning. My heart was pounding and my hands stung. My breathing was heavy and my throat was beginning to get dry but I just fed that machine until I ran out of tokens. In that cage I forgot about everything. I didn't hurt anymore. I wasn't sick. I wasn't alone. I was somewhere else. I was someone else.

And everything was alright.