Creative Nonfiction on The Interstitial

The Moment We Were Brave

Life isn’t about avoiding fear but facing it

Ani Eldritch
The Interstitial

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Priscilla Du Preez took this photo of the hands of two women sitting at a table holding coffee cups.
Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash

It was a typical August evening in the city, where the heat lingers even after sunset, and the streets feel like they’re holding their breath.

I found myself at a tiny café on 6th, with mismatched chairs and chalkboard menus. My friend Sam sat across from me, her fingers nervously twisting a napkin.

We were there to confront a truth we’d both been avoiding, a creeping realization that had grown too loud to ignore. Sam looked up, eyes meeting mine with determination and fear.

“Do you ever feel like we’re just… stuck?” she asked, the words falling out like they’d been waiting forever.

Her question hit like a punch – Stuck — such a simple word for a complex feeling.

We’d both been navigating our twenties like a maze, each turn revealing another wall. Jobs that felt like placeholders and relationships that seemed more about convenience than connection.

As Sam spoke, a strange clarity washed over me, like someone had turned a light on in a dim room.

“Yeah,” I finally admitted, feeling the weight of the word. “Stuck.”

The café door swung open, bringing in a gust of warm air and a group of friends’ laughter. I watched them for a moment, envying their lightness.

It struck me then that this was the crux of it all – our lives had become a series of careful calculations, avoiding risks, sticking to the known. But where was the joy in that?

The epiphany was as startling as it was simple: we’d been too scared to embrace the unknown, to make bold moves, to fail.

“Remember when we used to talk about traveling the world?” Sam’s voice broke through my thoughts, her tone wistful.

We once had big dreams, like backpacking through Europe or starting our own business. But those dreams had been shelved somewhere along the line, replaced by the mundane.

“Yeah, I remember,” I replied, nostalgia hitting me. “What happened to us?”

Sam shrugged a small, defeated gesture.

“Life, I guess.” But I knew it was more than that.

It was a plain and simple fear of the unknown, of stepping out of our comfort zones.

And in that moment, surrounded by the hum of the city and the clinking of coffee cups, I realized that fear had been dictating our lives.

We’d both signed an unspoken agreement to play it safe, to avoid the edges of life where things get messy and real.

But why? Why had we let ourselves become so paralyzed by fear? The question lingered in the air between us, unanswered but potent.

Then, Sam spoke up again, her voice steady but soft.

“I think it’s time we changed things,” she said, her eyes bright with a new resolve.

“Let’s do something crazy. Let’s quit our jobs, sell our stuff, and go. Anywhere.”

The suggestion was insane, reckless even. But as she said it, I felt a surge of excitement, a flicker of the old fire we used to have.

Could we do it? Just leave everything behind and start fresh? The idea seemed both terrifying and exhilarating. But wasn’t that the point? To be scared but do it anyway?

In that café, with the city’s heartbeat thrumming around us, we made a pact. Not just to travel but to reclaim our courage, face our fears head-on, and live boldly.

It was a small moment, easily overlooked, but it felt monumental.

We didn’t have all the answers, and maybe we never would, but it felt like we were in control for the first time in a long time. We were ready to leap, to embrace the uncertainty of the road ahead.

As we left the café, the city seemed different, alive with possibilities. It wasn’t that our problems had disappeared; instead, we’d shifted our perspective.

We now understand that life isn’t about avoiding fear but facing it and being brave enough to live fully. And in that shared moment of courage, we found a new beginning.

As we walked down the street, Sam looked at me and grinned.

“So, where should we go first?” she asked, her voice filled with hope I hadn’t heard in a long time.

I smiled back, feeling a sense of liberation.

“Anywhere,” I replied. “Anywhere but stuck.”

And just like that, the world felt open, waiting for us to explore its vastness, one brave step at a time.

Ani Eldritch 2024

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Ani Eldritch
The Interstitial

I am a writer and poet based in New York City. My style and genre are confessional literary realism.