Breaking Free


I had crossed the road from the hospital to Supermacs during my lunch-break and I was having a coffee and a quinzos sub when the Queen song “I want to break free’ came on over the radio on Galway Bay FM I think it was. I know it’s a song we’ve all heard many many times before but somehow it was like the very first time I ever heard it. It just kind of hit me, it hit a chord. It resonated with me on a deep level. “That’s ME he’s singing about,” I thought to myself. “This song is about my life. I’m meant to hear it – it’s meant for me…”


It suddenly hit me that I wanted to break free, that this was what I actually wanted to do. Break free. I realized that I wanted to break free from my stupid job, from all my dumb so-called friends, from my stupid, boring crappy life…


I wanted to break free from everything that was holding me back, all that restrictive stuff, all the crap in my life. It was an emotional moment – the tears ran freely down my cheeks and a series of shuddering sobs escaped from somewhere deep inside me. I noticed then that people were staring at me and that was embarrassing. I made my way out of Supermacs, trying not to pay any attention to the fact that everyone was now looking at me. I just stared ahead fixedly.


It was embarrassing but it was also an important moment for me. I knew that. I knew that my time had come. My only regret was that it had taken this long. Why did I have to wait until I was 58 years of age to see this? It felt like some kind of sick joke, to be honest…







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