The fact that I could just as easily have let myself go over that edge didn't seem to bother me as much as it probably should have. Just the thought that no one would care if I was gone, it really bothered me. I wanted to do something with my life that I would be remembered for, but, most of all, I wanted to be a husband. I wanted to be everything that my father wasn't to me. As much as the thought of an easy death sounded inviting...NO! That was the cowards way out.
I had an epiphany. As easy as it was to die because I was afraid to live, it was just as easy to live because i was afraid to die, or was I. I kept asking myself the same question over and over in my head, "Was I afraid to die?"
Part of me wished I hadn't stayed up there as long as I did, it kept bringing back those fleeting memories of when I was a young child. Those memories that we all have of a time when everything seemed simpler, when the world didn't feel like it was bearing itself down on our shoulders. Was it such a big thing to ask? For someone to love me as much as I loved them? I had waited my entire life for that one perfect person, the one that would save me from myself.
That was it! I wasn't afraid to die, I was afraid to be alone. I didn't trust myself when I was alone. Everything seemed so much easier when you didn't have to listen to that little voice in the back of your mind, telling you not to jump.