Cold, But I'm Still Here

He got me to start reading these books, an epic fantasy series eleven books long. In one of the books the two main characters, who at this point are deeply in love with each other, are forced into a situation. The problem is this; the girl, a level headed rational woman, believes that the man must do something so against his beliefs, in order to save his life. This thing she believes the man must is so horrific that he actually perceives her asking as a betrayal, as her not loving him anymore.
Driving home today the leaves on the trees were gorgeous, it was sunny and relatively warm, and the sight was so true to what I love about fall. But I didn't see any of it. My vision was fogged over, the details in the leaves all blurring together, the sun like a fine mist covering everything as opposed to a sharp column. Driving home today I realized that fiction is only fiction because it hasn't happened to us. So what does it mean when fictions turns to fact?

Will We Sink Or Will We Swim?

The rain was pouring off the roof of the apartment building in sheets, like one foggy pane of liquid glass. The smoke from my cigarette didn't even penetrate it it was so thick, so impassable. I stood there, slowly killing myself, and all I could think was that I wanted so bad to step out into the downpour and drench myself, wash myself in the rain, if only I could get past the gate that the was in front of me. As a test I took my hand and slowly pushed it past the wall of water, soaking my sleeve as I did so. My hand dripped as I pulled it back in, and it turned out the wall wasn't so impassible after all. So why couldn't I force myself through it?