Rin left the people she knew and the places she loved a long time ago. She can’t recall the moment in time when she detached, but she knew everything had been left behind. She didn’t have a reason, she wasn’t looking for something to replace the matter…but it all had to go. It all had to go, but it all hadn’t totally gone. There was a sliver left. A sliver of the warmth that came from driving past the park half a mile before her home and a sanity that came from seeing the sunken tree on the corner of the freeway onramp which kept her feet on the ground and head from out of the clouds. Rin had just a small sliver to lose but the small sliver stuck to her insides like cheese that had oozed out of a casserole and onto the edge of the baking pan.
The question that stood was how badly she wanted to shake this final sliver. Instincts told her it’s already gone and what remained is but an illusion. But her heart that bled from sun up to sun down believed the sliver couldn’t go, it would take with it her being. Rin had found herself caught right in the middle.
Being middle leaves one no closer to hot than it does cold. No closer to right that it does wrong. Middle leaves one beige. Rin has fire that burns white hot. Rin has ice that freezes impenetrably solid. But Rin always finds a way to mildly suffocate the fire and cautiously melt the ice. Leaving Rin: middle. Naturally, running wild with the white hot fire is never exercised and holding as stubborn as the impenetrable ice never amounts to anything.