The first. You step a little closer towards the edge, and your knees wobble as you become slightly hesitant of what you’re about to do. “Shit! This is too high!” You know you want to do it, but as you are half a second away from jumping you think of backing out. You can here someone fast approaching screaming calling your name and you exactly know who it is.
You ignore it.
You jump anyway and let the butterflies in your stomach bring you to where you should be. It’s that feeling of experiencing a natural high for the first time. Of course, you’d keep coming back for more.
The second. No more inhibitions. You are much more excited to do it this time, because you have total control of your mind. No more extremely morbid thoughts about death and fear. You just go all the way and jump. But you think about the mundane details. As you pierce the water, you feel the cloth of your swimsuit slip away from the warmth of your body. You tell yourself you made the right decision of wearing your shirt.
You go down and you hit the bottom of the ocean. You feel the friction of sand on your feet. But as you resurface, you emerge victorious and all-knowing. You are hurt, but you still want to go back.
The third. You are tired, but you still want to feel the thrill. You tell yourself it’s okay, since you’re becoming a master at this by the minute. You jump. You ride the sunset as it falls down the coast and you feel one with the whole facade. Finally, you belong.
You think of wanting to do it one more time, as the waves relentlessly smash on the boulders. You try to get back on the dry area, swallowing gallons of saltwater as you do.
As you reach the top you think of jumping again, but you shake your head knowing you shouldn’t. You had too much saltwater to drink and you’re feeling a little tipsy already.
Enough, you say. And then you go home smiling, with blissful vivid memories framed in your mind. That’s enough.
