She floats through the air, with the greatest of ease
I was on a platform, high up in the air. I never looked down, but was aware that there was no net beneath me, that should I fall, I would be falling to my death. He was so far away, but I could still see his gentle smile, his loving eyes, beckoning to me.
"Trust me" he said, a mere whisper, as the wind sent the words brushing across my face, so much implied in those two words, so much pain in his voice , and I despaired, oh how I despaired, for hurting him.
“Brevity is the soul of wit” he had told me once, or perhaps a million times, with laughter in his eyes. It is this laughter that I try to hold on to, even as I fear it slipping away.
"I do" I reply, meeting him word for word, reveling in my ability to distill all my emotion at this moment into this simple response, and knowing that it is true. The clarity of this knowledge takes my breath away. Suddenly I know that he will catch me, at the core of my being I know, but my legs betray me, still paralyzed by fear.
“Don’t be afraid” he tells me, his eyes beseeching me, and I think to tease him for using one too many words, but realize, just in time, that now is not the time for teasing. I am painfully aware of the expanse of time and space between us, and I ache to feel his arms around me.
“I’m sorry” I whisper, as my eyes well up with tears. I know that my fear is a betrayal of my professed trust, and that every moment I stand here, I’m hurting us both. I long to scream, to wail, to beat my fists against this platform, until they are slick with my own blood, even if it means that I’ve trapped myself here, in this prison of my own making, at least I would have excused my fear.
I don’t know how to explain, how to tell him that it’s myself, and that chasm between us that I’m afraid of. I’m terrified of falling, of failing, so afraid that the lesser part of me is willing to never try at all. I do know that I’m out of choices.
So I jump. I leave the solitary safety of my platform, and in that moment before the slack tenses, when I’m momentarily weightless, with nothing beneath me, I realize that I am finally free. I know what happens next, beyond a shadow of a doubt, and that knowledge propels me forward, into his arms.
"Trust me" he said, a mere whisper, as the wind sent the words brushing across my face, so much implied in those two words, so much pain in his voice , and I despaired, oh how I despaired, for hurting him.
“Brevity is the soul of wit” he had told me once, or perhaps a million times, with laughter in his eyes. It is this laughter that I try to hold on to, even as I fear it slipping away.
"I do" I reply, meeting him word for word, reveling in my ability to distill all my emotion at this moment into this simple response, and knowing that it is true. The clarity of this knowledge takes my breath away. Suddenly I know that he will catch me, at the core of my being I know, but my legs betray me, still paralyzed by fear.
“Don’t be afraid” he tells me, his eyes beseeching me, and I think to tease him for using one too many words, but realize, just in time, that now is not the time for teasing. I am painfully aware of the expanse of time and space between us, and I ache to feel his arms around me.
“I’m sorry” I whisper, as my eyes well up with tears. I know that my fear is a betrayal of my professed trust, and that every moment I stand here, I’m hurting us both. I long to scream, to wail, to beat my fists against this platform, until they are slick with my own blood, even if it means that I’ve trapped myself here, in this prison of my own making, at least I would have excused my fear.
I don’t know how to explain, how to tell him that it’s myself, and that chasm between us that I’m afraid of. I’m terrified of falling, of failing, so afraid that the lesser part of me is willing to never try at all. I do know that I’m out of choices.
So I jump. I leave the solitary safety of my platform, and in that moment before the slack tenses, when I’m momentarily weightless, with nothing beneath me, I realize that I am finally free. I know what happens next, beyond a shadow of a doubt, and that knowledge propels me forward, into his arms.