I have been standing on this edge for so long, waiting for the sweet push of nature’s winds to seal my fate; yet, I stand here, wobbling on the cliff of sanity, looking back on the memories of who I used to be before I plunge into who I have become. 

Never do we remember the moments right before something amazing happens. It’s always overshadowed by the main event, but the same philosophy does not run true for when tragedy strikes its morbid hands. I remember every moment leading up to my untimely demise like the villains in a storybook. I have found myself wondering where it all went wrong.

I wonder what happened to make my plans fall apart so quickly. Could I have tried harder? Should I have stayed around longer? Did I make the most of the time we had, or did I take it all for granted like the rest of this world?

Pain is just grief knocking on your door. And grief is the sweet winds that push us over the edge. In a fatal attempt to find what we lost, I realized it will not be the memories I forget about that will cut me ever so deeply, but rather the future we would have had if tragedy wasn’t such a frequent visitor in the home of fear.

It would seem, however, that even unwelcome guests still bring gifts, and fear’s gift is a lesson. It teaches us all the things that terrify us, and our response to its teachings is ultimately going to be what determines who we are when the last page makes its appearance. Whether we allow the thought of “if only I did this” ruin our future and force us over the edge—that seems to be strategically placed in front of us—or if we are going to break the mold by surpassing the teacher, by overcoming fear.

It’s like my life has become a story where I would like to walk away from the cliff holding hope in my fragile hands, but this is no fairytale, and it would seem the villains are more relatable to me now anyways. 

Frightened to keep reading, I continued to dwindle: one foot stable on the ground held in place with the hope I had only a few pages back, but the other limb appears to be dangling over nothingness. It would seem my other half has taken the dive into who I have become.

I wonder if they know it’s almost over, and I wonder if they are afraid of the final words: the end.