People have always said, when asked, that the difference between sinking and falling is that one is in the air and one is underwater. The truth is though, that is not the case.
The difference is this; with falling you can be caught and healed, with sinking no one even knows your out in the ocean in the first place. I think I’m falling, but the water is coming up faster and faster… I’m almost afraid. But I’m not. Fear and other emotions have become dull aches and pangs in my heart. there is no love anymore. No guilt. Only sadness reigns.
Father’s death was what pushed me over the cliff the first time. I was falling, slowly, as though the air was trying to slow me down too. But my brother and best friend helped save me from that.
The second, terrifying time off that cliff was when she -the best friend I meantioned earlier that is- disappeared. I was stumbling closer and closer, not yet plunging over the edge. When, around the two year mark, I was going. My descent slowed drastically when she returned, but no one fished me back onto land. They left me. Trapped in mid-air.
The third and final time was when my brother he-he died. I thought it was about time he saw the line of action after he’d bagged me for a desk job. Bull troll topside. The thing was though, he died trying to save me. The troll had gotten too close and it was about to rip me to shreds when he pushed me out of the way. I watched every second. Limbs flew. Blood spattered. And I was left as close to alone as I had ever come.
No one has tried to pull me back. They just let me fall. I’m closer to the water than I’ve ever gotten, and I welcome it. I want to sink. Sinking means soon I’ll be back with them. Sinking makes it all okay.
My body plunged into the dark, unforgiving waters of my mind at frightening speeds. I am lost, never to be found, lying broken in the sea.
And to think this was written on Christmas…