There's that feeling I hate on roller coasters

Whenever people ask me, "Do you like roller coasters?" I say, "No, they make me feel like my stomach is coming up through my throat, and I don't like to pay to feel that way."

Sometimes it doesn't just happen while I'm strapped to a metal box rolling down a track leading me through loops of "fun."

The good thing is the ride always ends. Things settle down. My stomach falls back into place. So maybe I don't hate roller coasters. Because how would I know how gravity felt if my feet were always stuck to the floor? How could true love be worth as much as so many thousands of men have paid for it if it's so easy for me?

If I didn't hate the feeling I get in my stomach, I wouldn't truly enjoy not having that feeling present. It can be one of the most difficult eternal truths to both comprehend and accept. I am nowhere near comprehension or acceptance, but I'm trying.

Tonight's ride ended. I'm going to bed a little bit happier to be on flat ground. I have written a lot about how happy I have been lately. Add another smile to that because tonight I felt like I was having it all ripped away only to have it given back again. It's like gaining everything all over. It's a refreshing feeling of sorts, just not one I would prefer to relive too often.