Taking the Plunge
And being saved, by love . . .
I look down.
The city lights shine beneath me, twinkling like thousands of stars in the sky.
My hands stretch towards the railings.
Twelve floors.
That ought to do the job.
I hear my name being called and walk to the front, my knees trembling, my fingers shivering as much as my heart quakes.
I stand in the centre, to face all the pairs of eyes focused on me, cutting into me, making me bleed.
My breathing goes shallow.
I am unable to speak and the teacher glares at me, ordering me to start quickly.
But I can’t.
I try to, but I can’t.
My voice chokes. I can’t speak.
My mind goes blank. I forget everything I had to say.
My eyes brim with tears and I turn sharply and run away.
Yes, I ran away like I always do.
I climb over the railing, my breath hitching as my leg slips slightly.
My hands tremble as I clasp the steel railings that shine bright, reflecting the lights and joy around. A contrast to the emotions and the dark storm raging within me.
I hear the words escape my lips and watch their fake smiles being replaced by scowls.
Shame. Anger. Disappointment. Frustration. Hate.
The room suddenly feels too full.
I tilt my head downwards, watching the tears drop into my reddened palms.
They don’t understand.
Nobody ever did.
Nobody ever will.
Tears roll down my cheeks and drop down.
I can’t see where they drop.
The ground is too far away.
I know people will call me a fool.
A coward for being unable to face the world. For running away.
But I don’t care about that.
Fake smiles. Inscrutable mask. Stolid expression.
Trying to fight back. Breaking down, bit by bit. Shattering.
Breaking. Crying. Weeping. Screaming. Bleeding.
But not anymore.
I can’t do this anymore.
I am tired.
Of fighting. Of pushing against the walls. Of trying to mould myself the way everybody wants me to. Of shattering inside, and still being forced to “smile.”
Of asking myself, over and over and over, what is wrong with me???
Everybody is happy.
Smiles and laughter.
Jokes and joy are floating around.
But none of it touches me.
I try to reach them. I really do.
But I can’t float or hang on anymore.
I’ve already drowned.
I think of my life.
My short eventful life.
All those mocking smiles and pretended expressions.
All those “friends” who let go when I needed them most.
All those people who laughed when I fell. Who crushed me and walked away.
I close my eyes, the final tears escaping the wet corners.
No more tears.
No more sadness and loneliness.
No more lying awake in the night.
No more crying alone in the dark.
I have to let go.
I am going to let go.
One last time, I smile, my heart crying for release.
Then, I jump.
I wait for the pain, then the darkness, to embrace me. But nothing comes.
I feel my body fall, but it only lasts a moment.
A pair of strong hands hold my wrists and pull me up, making sure that I don’t get hurt.
An arm grips my waist tightly, but with great care, and pulls me over the railing.
I feel my body fall into his strong arms, my weight collapsing against him as I break.
His arms encircle me, pulling me into a loving embrace. I can feel his heart beating against my ear, thundering as fast as my own.
I bury my face into his neck and hold him close as the dam breaks and the tears rush out fervently.
I press against his chest, clinging onto him like a lifeline, a support, a reason to live.
My sobs break the deafening silence as I cry my heart out.
He rubs my back in gentle circular movements, whispering soothing words into my ear.
As his deep honey-like voice washes over my soul, my heart calms down, knowing that I had found my peace, my solace, my support.
He loves me.
He loves me.
He loves me.
The thought echoes in my head, again, and again.
And I find it again.
A reason to hang on.
To not let go.
To live.
To love.
I love him; that is all I need to know to convince myself, to live.
Love saved me, again.
