playing the panty pass game

I should have been happy. I should have been ecstatic. This is what I had been hoping for all along. The chance to lose it all. The chance to be saved. Bright, gleaming salvation. What I had been looking for is the opportunity to prostrate myself to forty women at once on a polished hardwood floor. And prostrate, I did.
As I lay howling, pulling myself into the fetal position, staring at my face in the wood floor- trying to give my lungs the best chance they could to reflate, the whole world disappeared. I was vaguely aware of other people around me, the medic coming to my side, but clearly in my head I heard my own distorted howling. The kind of noise you can only make without air. Close off your diaphragm and try to scream as loud as you can. That might be close to it. I rocked back and forth, grabbed and held onto anything I could, other people, thighs, clothing. Trying to find stability. Trying to find a solid place from which to push. I felt familiar hands on my back and pushed harder. Mid-howl, something suddenly popped and I caught the end of a breath. Like coming up for air from a long dive, I was so grateful to see the surface. In that moment breathing was all that mattered. Life reduced to One. Simple. Clear. Thing. In that moment I was forgiven. Reborn. And as I got up off the floor and everyone cheered, I was a bright, gleaming success.