I’ve never much been a fan of amusement parks. I think they are a place where expectation meets disappointment. From the moment you walk in, you are overwhelmed with all of the spectacular lights, crispy golden food, and rides that promise the thrill of your life. I never know where to begin, so I sort of move along with the crowd. For hours, I will stand in lines that are unforgiving in their length, only to be mock-excited for 45 seconds.  I will try to re-arrange the pre-arranged menu options at every hotdog vendor looking for something that most closely resembles the farthest thing from a coronary-on-a-stick. And when I get too close to the lights that I thought at first glimpse were so magical, I realize they are just store bought Christmas lights strung together, working at full capacity on their last leg.

                Lately I have begun to feel like my life has taken an all-you-can-ride-for-a-flat-rate ticket into an amusement park. My body is witnessing, with eyes wide open, my emotions being strapped on a rollercoaster.

                Lest we forget those safety belts are not exactly up to standard.

                I feel so much, that I don’t remember what it’s like to just be. I am in a terrible state. And I am not talking about my physical presence, which happens to be in Florida.

                I am in love. And it hurts.

                It hurts because it is with so much feeling that I can’t separate myself from this MAN to be able to tell whether I need to grab a hold of myself before we both let me fall. It hurts because I have such a grasp on what I want and what I need that I can’t see my life without desire and necessity. He seems to hold on to both of these. And so I hold on to him.

                I have never fancied the Tea Cups. I don’t understand how one would find pleasure in spinning within a spinning circle. Is it sort of like the snowball effect? Once you’ve allowed so much to flow out of the cup, does it matter if you roll up your pant legs?

                You’ve already gotten your feet wet just by standing outside in the rain puddle for so long.

                How about the Gravitron? I think it’s slightly counter-productive to appreciate gravity- and the beauty in the independence of being able to take a stand on your own two feet- if you are being forced up against a wall. The feeling of being obligated to stay in one place, watching everyone around you follow suit, is suffocating.

                The Polar Express was one that I didn’t mind waiting in line for. I think about it now, and being pressed up against the person you are forced to sit beside just makes you feel more out of touch.

                It isn’t fun anymore.

                I think amusement parks, with every twist and turn those rollercoaster’s offer, are each a metaphor for the ups and downs in life. Whether you bought a ticket, or someone else invited you on, we can’t help but risk our hopes.

                We even risk our illusions, until sometimes they become delusions.

                We put everything on the line when we enter through that gate that promises so much. Fun. Flashing lights. Excitement. Crowds watching. Gaping smiles.

                When we are there, do we ever really get all the good without the bad? Are we disappointed? Humiliated? Fooled? Promised?

                Torn?

                Some of us may never leave, and it is because of this that we cannot look back and decide what should be done. We are the ones who are waiting for the rides to stop, the disassembly to start. We are the ones who don’t know when to walk away.

                So we opt to stand still and watch everyone else feel what we thought we could, until we wake ourselves up. Or until the MAN says it’s time to leave.