The First Time

I've been here before, toes dug into loose dirt, swaying on the edge of this precipice. Hair blown into face, eyes stinging from harsh wind, heart lodged in throat like an accidentally swallowed peach pit.

(I've never been here before, I'm not a bit familiar with the landscape. My eyes have trouble adjusting as the waning light of day plays tricks on me, casting eerie shadows that dance as if to mock my unsteady feet.)

I've gulped like this before, taking air in stupidly in big gasps. I've stumbled from vertigo, nearly lost my balance, pulled myself back from the point of no return by nothing but sheer determination.

(I've never experienced this kind of bizarre breathing. My feet have always been steady and reliable, until now. They say there's a first time for everything. I wouldn't have thought it, though, wouldn't have dreamed I'd ever be here where so many have gone before, body weaving in the wind as if I'm weak and helpless as a twig, not strong and sturdy as an oak tree--as I know myself to be.)

This isn't the first time I've stared in speechless terror as the reality of the bottomless abyss hits me like a blow to the chest. My hands turning to ice and my knees threatening to dance a jig of fear are familiar sensations to me, calling back to me half-formed remembrances of other seasons of fear and black anger.

(I've never before known the oddity of buckling knees; anger swift and keen and implacable makes my entire body shake and my hands turn cold as death.)

I've been here before, face to face with fear, grief, death. None of this is new to me, I'm not a novice to such emotions and experiences. I waver, I teeter, I hesitate, biting my lip until I taste blood on my tongue. I want the abyss, I hate it. I long for its cavernous depths to swallow me up, I pull back from it with a shudder. Safe now from its spell on me I bend down to tie my shoes with fingers that shake with relief.

(These feelings of grief and fear nearly overwhelm me; I don't understand where they're coming from. I've never wavered like this before, have I? Has my entire body ever teetered like this, hesitating over the grand daddy decision of all: life or death? The abyss is luring me forward and I lean towards it with aching longing. Must I step back when plunging myself into its bosom would solve so many problems? Oh the pain of choosing! Surely I've never before experienced the need to make such choices--and there is no one to help me. I waver, I teeter, I hesitate. I pull myself away from the brink with a shudder, and bending down, tie my shoes with shaking fingers.)

Comments

[Vicki in AZ]

Beauty,
Breathe. Step Back. Breathe Deeper. Breathe Again. This is perfect writing. You know that right? You will make it. We hear you. You are loved.
♥
Vicki