We've Got Ourselves a Jumper

We went on a hike, which is really just a walk with a possible incline and pretty scenery, plus the bonus of seeming outdoorsy and health conscious (it seems you has to say that you love outdoor activities to be one of the cool kids these days, kind of how you have to say Barney, Barbies and Lego's are lame when you're seven, regardless of true opinions. . . Which, let my say, I do love the outdoors: camping, hiking, river rafting . . . and I still love Barbies). So, we're on a hike, having a grand ol' time and we come to this cliff with a clearing in the brush; we look below and see a crystal clear bay. My Sherlock Holmes skills tell me that this is no secret jumping platform, the clearing in the brush, the well-worn path leading from the main trail . . . many have stood here, yet it seems the most unique discovery as we stand alone on the hem of the mountain looking at the glistening water below.
Talk turns to jumping.
We draw near.
We back away.
We pretend to get distracted.
We find ourselves gravitating back to the earth's limit.
We are on the brink again.
We decide to jump.
Deep breath in.
You fake me out.
I jump.
As I fall I realize that this isn't so scary. Adrenaline pumps through my insides as wind rushes over my exterior. Free falling, yet feeling secure and happy. While still in midair I also realize that you're still standing on the edge. The verge. Waiting alone on the precipice. I wish you were falling with me. Having the same experience, at the same time. I wish we were enjoying this wild ride together.
I guess that's why they call in "falling" in love. There comes a moment when you have to overcome fear and just jump into the uncertainty. It's worth it. When the potential for what could be is so great then it is worth the risk.
I'm in the water, alone.
The water turns cold and I tire of treading water (I never could last long), I swim to shore. I can never stand on that cliff with him anymore. I'm soaking on the shore. He's dry on the cliff. It's not the same. Never will be. And, what's funny, is that the jump looks all big and scary from the top, but it's really just a small drop, a tiny leap.
I learned that jumping and falling is an individual thing, even when you think you're going to do it together, it all comes down to you. Are you going to take the risk? Are you going to face the fear? Are you going to leap into the unknown? I also learned that when you jump and they don't, it hurts, more than expected. Lots more. But not bad enough that I wouldn't do it all over again.
Honestly, I'm still waiting for him to jump. I want him to take the risk. I want him to feel the exhilarating rush! I want him on the shore with me. And, partly, I wait because I have no where else to go. But, in time, I'll start exploring different paths and find my way somewhere else. I just want him exploring those paths with me. I can't imagine exploring lives paths alone, but I will if I have to. I will continue on my outdoorsy adventure.

When have you been soaking on the shore or standing dry on the cliff?

1 comment:

  1. oh man sister! you just made me cry. This is absolutely beautiful. I want to fall...someday I'll stand at the precipice with the right guy. I hope I'll have enough guts