I'll Never Be The Same.

You're standing on a bridge overlooking the river.  As you stare into the oddly aquamarine depths, you wonder how far down the river bed lies.  Just a few meters up, you see a span of earth beneath the surface of the water and estimate that it would be waist-high at the most.

As you lose your heart and your world comes to a complete halt, you idly wonder how long it would take to reach that mound of river bed from the area just below where you're standing, considering the currents and your lack of swimming ability.

You have the urge to jump: not to die, just to feel.

There's an empty space where your heart once resided; no pain, but it's an unbearable sensation - nothing you've ever experienced before.  Jumping would give you freedom, if only for a few minutes.  It would allow you to feel something different, even temporarily:  the cool water in relief of the unseasonal heat, the rush of the free fall, the resistance of the water as you moved against it, adrenaline pumping through your veins, assuring you that despite a lack of beating in your chest, you are indeed still living.

As tempting as it is, you don't jump.  It would be pretty dumb considering the currents and your lack of swimming ability.  Besides, you don't have a change of clothes, and it would be pretty humiliating if you belly flopped having never dived from anything in your life.  No, as much of a rush and relief it would be to jump into the rippling river below, there are other ways to feel again, even if it takes a while to get there.

I Finally Found the Words to Say.

(But I can't tell you if you turn around and run away ...)

Trying a new way of feeling better: going through and finding short stories that I wrote a long time ago (this one was written about a year ago), revamping, and posting.  Flipping the experiences into semi-fiction and taking a look through somebody else's eyes.

Part One of Two? (Maybe three?) right after the jump.