This is why falling.

[I've been going through some things lately that I haven't felt comfortable talking about that much. I wrote this piece, if you will, to kind of explain it; however, it is cryptic. It's different than anything I usually post but I hope you enjoy it, nevertheless]

Deep breath. Deep breath. Deep breath. One step back. And one more. Scan the crowd with my eyes only tilting my head for a moment. Blink once. Fidget my fingers, curling them with the air. Up ahead is a ramp. The more I step back, the taller it grows. I have a split second to decide to conquer it or run away. Suddenly I’m off.

My heart is in my throat and I am running. Running as fast as I can with the adrenaline pumping and fueling. Pumping and fueling my body as well as my desire. I am propelling myself faster and faster toward the ramp. I didn’t cower away. I chose the ramp.

The ramp, fun and colorful, now appears to be turning, twisting almost, into a dark force. The smooth surface seems to turn textured like a tree the closer I get to it. One foot in front of the other. Keep running. Keep pushing. Don’t back down. I do not know what is on the other side of the ramp. The farthest I can see is the pinnacle of the ramp.

Still, I run.

When I finally catch up to the ramp and thrust my leg onto the structure, it doesn’t move. In fact, I glide. The ramp returns to its colorful and glorified state. And for a second I forget I’m running. Relax. Relax. Breathe.

I could turn around now, or I can go higher and higher. I choose higher. And suddenly, I know it is time to see what is on the other side.

Except that when I look there’s nothing. Just an abyss. I jump. Not because I want to, but because the ramp has abruptly ended. I don’t have time to process why it’s gone; all I know is that the ramp is out from under me. And I fall. 

Mid-fall I realize had I turned around sooner, or even jumped sooner, the fall would be shorter. Nothing I can do now. I will crash. And it will hurt. But I will get up and go again. Perhaps next time I’ll do something differently. As I let myself fall, the crowd (silent for all this time) gasps. Some shouts here and there, but they know I’ll be fine. I don’t know that quite yet.

Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

The inevitable crash hurts. I can’t say for how long. But it hurts.

And when I get back up, I go again.