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 deep, 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.


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 53 years of age to see this?








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