We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Life doesn’t work that way. Love
requires a leap of faith, so I’m jumping off this bridge.
Every muscle, every nerve, every synapse is screaming
against what I just did.
But at the same time, I feel the euphoria.
I’ve never felt more alive.
Colors are more vivid, every sound is clearer. I can see the ground
and how quickly I’m approaching. I’m not convinced love will catch me in time.
I shut my eyes tight and brace myself for the impact, for the shatter.
I can see myself splattered at the bottom of the canyon. I can hear everyone scoffing, “what a fool she was for trusting love.”
But just before I hit the ground,
love yanks me upward.
I’m flying again.
This cycle of flying and falling repeats. Now each time I plummet toward the ground,
I dare to scream and wave my arms.
Soon, I’m daring the ground to meet me, and I am stretching out to reach it.
With each bounce, my body slows until I’m gently lowered back to the earth.
I can feel the familiarity of the dirt. Now I can rest.
In the end, love was a risk worth taking.