Gravity

I went jogging tonight. I often go jogging when the urge to fly is so strong I can hardly breathe. It's a coping mechanism I learned from a therapist I saw for my "unnatural power proclivity" before my mission. Jogging clears my head, expels some of that pent up energy trying to escape, puts my focus somewhere else besides on the desire to act out, and forces me to breathe. Except tonight it was windy. As I ran between the MTC and the temple, scattered raindrops hitting my glasses and wind rushing past my ears, it felt like all I had to do was let go and the wind would carry me away. It took all my concentration to force each step I took to connect with the pavement. It was like gravity was pulling me up and I had to will myself down. Each step could easily have launched me up, up, and away.

Somehow, I managed to stay on solid ground. I jogged for half an hour, then came home and showered. I might even make it through the night without levitating above my bed. No matter how much I tell myself that mutant powers come from God just as much as any other gift, no matter how cynical I allow myself to be about things I've never thought to question before, I can't bring myself to give up and fly. Because that's what it would feel like--giving up. Gravity is pulling me upward and I'm clinging for my life to what I know. Is this the iron rod protecting me from the mists of darkness or is it an iron shackle keeping me from freedom?