My Legs Are Dangling

My legs are dangling off the edge, literally. Up high, on a skyscraper building in the midst of New York, I sat on the edge, a small smile on my face as I swung my legs back and forth. I was alone, not like it was anything new, and my hands sat, folded, in my lap as I watched the sun set. As soon as it sunk below the mountains, I’d push off. I’d finally have the courage to do it, I told myself.

I reached over to my left and grabbed the bottle of alcohol sitting next to me, taking a swig of it, before looking down at all the people on the ground. They were all hurrying to get in cars and on buses so they could get home before the sun set, so they could guarantee their safety for one more day. I chuckled to myself at that, taking another drink from the bottle, setting it back to the side, shaking my head at them. Safety is never guaranteed. Ever. There could be a mugger right around the corner from where you’re about to head, there could be a sickness floating in the air, a robbery could happen at the place you’d just left. Safety is a trivial thing.

People also think that they’re safe from themselves, which isn’t true in the least. No matter how happy you let yourself be, there’s always that little hint of despair in the back of your mind, and, depending on certain events, that despair can grow and grow, until suddenly it takes over, and all the happy goes away. Break ups, getting demoted, failing a test, anything can make that small hint spark and ignite all the regret and self loathing. If someone were to speak this to people out of the blue, they would just chuckle and brush it off, calling it untrue, and until you experience the feeling of true sadness, it might be untrue to you. But once something bad happens, it’ll all make sense.

The sun sank just a little bit lower, and I sighed to myself, taking the bottle once more and finishing the last few drinks, then setting it back on the inside of the wall. I watched the people for a few more moments, before looking back up at the sunset. Only a few more minutes, now, until it’ll all be over. Glancing down for a second, I judged the size of the building, determining it was at least 20 stories high. Gotta love New York, with it’s large buildings and always-busy streets. Nothing ever changes here, it’s always the same. There will always be crime, there will always been poverty, that’s just how New York worked, and there’s no other explanation.

A shadow cast over me, and I looked up, letting a smile spread across my face as the last bit of the sun disappeared. I unfolded my hands, resting them beside my legs, shifting a little so I was barely sitting on the edge.

Then I pushed.