This Is How It Feels

The sun sets as I sit on the edge of my porch, paper cup that doesn't seem to leave my grasp held to my lips as I take a drink of the whiskey it contains. Once again, it is nearly empty and I must have filled it about five times already in the past hour or two. I could drink water, but all that does is keep you alive and it tastes of nothing. It doesn't burn your throat. It doesn't numb your senses. It doesn't make you forget for a while. A few people have picked up on my drinking habits, Alex has even gone as far as telling me that I'll drink myself to death.

I wonder if he knows that's my intention.

Death in some sense. More like killing my mind than myself. Although my mind does frequently drift to the latter.

It has been a while since I have been happy; probably nearing a year now. Life just doesn't seem to hold much meaning anymore, it is as if I have lost my purpose in the blink of an eye. For too long I have woken up in the morning with no motivation and a reluctance to go through with the day ahead. I can't think clearly. It's like a void of static. The majority of the time I just want to disappear or close my eyes and just sleep. For how long? I never quite know; eternity sounds rather appealing though.

You would never guess that I feel this way, what with the jumping around on stage and wearing a near-constant smile in interviews and such. Practice makes perfect, and I have perfected the art of pretending. Sometimes pretending even helps. When I pretend that everything is okay, that one day it will be better, it instills a false sense of hope in my heart, the beat of which I have grown tired of. The illusion makes it easier to breathe for a while, but the realisation comes crashing down on me not long after, crushing my lungs and suffocating me. A life where you can't seem to catch your breath isn't the sort of life I want to live, yet I'm stuck with it.

I could just end it all. To say that I haven't considered that option too many times to count would be a plain lie. Maybe it's because I can never seem to think clearly. Maybe it's because I'm desperate. Maybe it's because right now, in this moment, my options are incredibly limited.

And that thought, that one idea, is what pulls me to my feet on this brisk evening and gets me walking. Where am I going? I don't know. All I know is that my grip on the paper cup just got tighter.

----------

Never did I think that I would end up at the edge of a cliff, yet here I am. The air is so much colder than when I left, the ocean breeze biting and clawing at my bare arms and face. I regret not grabbing a jacket, but I guess it never crossed my mind which seemed to be on auto-pilot on the journey here. I have no idea how long I have been walking for, but now instead of a fiery horizon the entire sky is a magnificent array of dark blues and black. Stars dot the sky like thousands of fairy lights. Wispy clouds that resemble grey smoke move at a leisurely pace, crossing paths with the full moon which hangs high in the centre of the sky.

I take a swig of the whiskey in my paper cup.

The way the moon reflects on the ocean is almost hypnotic, the small waves warping the reflection and moving it as if it were a piece of silk. I find myself staring at it, unable to tear my gaze away from it as the sea air blows through my hair and the sound of the waves washes over me. It is all so incredibly peaceful.

I stare out at the ocean before me, as if it holds the answers to anything. Why I feel like this. Why existing is like a chore. Will it ever get better. I continue to stare. Nothing. The wind that blows around me, it tells me nothing at all. No whispers. Nothing.

I decide against standing any longer and watching the water far below me, and favour lying on my back and staring up at the sky, the paper cup resting on my stomach and almost empty. Lying on my back, it is as if I can think more clearly as I stare up at the starry sky.

When was the last time I was okay? The last time I felt that my life had meaning? The last time I was glad I was alive? Desperately searching through my memory and clawing through the negative thoughts, it is difficult to pin point the last time I was any of these. Alex dulls the pain of existence sometimes, but it doesn't fix anything.

I wish I wasn't broken.

If I were to describe myself right now in one word, what would it be? Suffocating? Lost? Hopeless? Desperate? Tired?

I wish I wasn't just one giant negative.

Do I want to live anymore?

How quickly I reach an answer to that one question disturbs me, and it drags me down even further into the dark pit I seem to have fallen into with no means of escape.

I wish I wasn't breathing.

It shouldn't disturb me though, considering the amount of times this thought has crossed my mind. I guess it's the quick conclusion that catches me off guard. It's strange. If you asked me that question a year ago I would have said "yes" without a moments hesitation. If you were to ask me nine months ago, I would have answered yes after a few seconds of thought. Five months ago I would I have shrugged my shoulders. Last month I would have answered "not really".

Now that the answer is a solid and definite "no", not just a "no" with 98% certainty like it has been for the past week, it has me thinking.

I am on a cliff. No one is around. The drop from the edge of the cliff to the beach is incredibly far.

What's stopping me?

----------

After a considerable amount of time thinking and staring up at the sky, I finally force my stiff and frozen limbs to raise me from the ground and move me closer to the edge of the cliff. Glancing down, my heart jumps at how far the drop actually is. This is probably the highest I have been without a railing to stop me from falling, and it scares me half to death.

Half isn't good enough though.

As I continue to stare down at the beach below, my heart beating erratically as my toes hang slightly over the edge, I start to review my decision. It's not because I am now doubting my decision, I am 100% certain with it. It's just if my actions will actually effect those close to me.

My family? It's a big family, I won't be missed.

My friends? I was never a good friend to begin with.

The band? They can easily find a guitarist with five times the skill I have.

Alex? He can easily find someone so much better. Someone who will take him out for nice meals more frequently. Someone who can be as grown up as he is and have intellectual conversations. Someone who loves life as much as he does.

I can't just leave without a word though. If I do it right this second, what would be the last impressions people have of me? The fans would have my last tweet of 'boobs', Rian and Zack's would be me too drunk to stand, and Alex's would be me going to bed without a word. What was the last thing I said to my parents? My siblings?

I need to sort things before I go.

I hastily pull my phone from my pocket with the hand not holding the paper cup, and pull up a blank text.

To: Mom
I just wanted to let you and dad know that I love you both, and thank you for everything you have done for me. The way you raised me, how you both supported myself and the band, and how you were both always there for me. Thank you, and I love you both so so so much and I'm sorry for any inconveniences I ever caused xxx

To: May
Thank you for being the best sister I could ever have, and thank you for everything. I'm sorry about that one time I stole your lipstick for a dare when I was 16 and broke it. I love you so much and wish you nothing but happiness xxx

To: Joe
You are the best brother a guy could have, and thank you for everything you have ever done for me. I'm sorry I ruined your favourite shirt by throwing up on it that one time I was really drunk. I love you and I wish you all the best xxx

To: Zack
I'm going to guess that Rian is there with you so this is to the two of you. Thank you so much for all that you have both ever done for me, whether that be dragging my drunk ass home after a long night or just being there to listen. I'm sorry for any trouble I ever caused the two of you, and I hope that you both have the greatest success in your lives. I love you, bros.

I decide that I need time to figure out what to say to Alex, so I close my texts for the time being and pull up twitter, quickly typing in my password and opening up a blank tweet. Just as I go to type, I notice the sun starting to rise. The view is absolutely breathtaking. The ocean is a beautiful mixture of dark blues and greens, the light peaking over the horizon causing the water to shimmer and give it an other-earthly glow. The sky is a magnificent collection of warm oranges, glowing yellows, and soft pinks. Everything is just so calm, so pretty. Bringing up my phone, I take two photos: one of the sunset alone and another with me in front of it, paper cup raised. Both are added to the tweet with a short message:

"I wish all of you nothing but happiness."

I press tweet and it only takes a few seconds for retweets and favourite notifications to start buzzing on my phone along with a few replies.

So pretty omfg
wtf are you doing up so early???
I'll cheers to that
Aw ur sooo sweet
You look really tired, are you okay? ):
happiness for everyone!!! :D
We wish nothing but happiness for you as well

Looking out at the sunrise once again, then to the ground so many feet below, and then back up to the sun again, I decide to compose one last tweet. Hopefully the last tweet to ever be sent by JackAllTimeLow.

"If I jump high enough, I wonder if I can touch the Sun..."

Before my phone starts buzzing with notifications, I quickly log out of twitter and exit the app. Now to text Alex...or should I call him? I mean, I feel like he deserves a phone call but what do I say? If I call I can't perfect my words or back space when the words don't flow like I want them to. Besides, I didn't call anyone else. However I don't have to think further on the matter seeing as Alex is actually calling me now...weird, he usually isn't up this early.

"Hello?"

"Jack, where the fuck are you?!" A panicked Alex nearly shouts from the other end of the phone.

"Just out." I tell him nonchalantly. Apparently Alex isn't too happy about that.

"Just out? Just out!? Jack, it is nearly six o'clock in the morning, why the fuck are you 'just out'?"

"I couldn't sleep so I decided to go for a walk."

"A walk to the bloody beach? Jack, the beach is over an hours walk away at least. Look, when are you coming home? I'm really worried."

"Why are you worried? And what are you doing up, anyway?" In a moment of desperation, I try to flip the conversation so that it focuses on him rather than me.

"Why am I worried? Because I woke up from a nightmare where you were gone, and I freaked the fuck out when you weren't there. Then I get a text from Zack telling me about the text you sent him, and then I get a notification from twitter showing the new photos you posted and I can tell that you are on a fucking cliff. So why am I worried? I'm worried you're going to do something stupid."

"I'm fine. Why would a text give you any alarm, anyway? I was just having a deep moment."

"Jack," Alex sounds close to tears now and shit, do I feel bad. "That text you sent to Zack sounded like a goodbye."

"Just go back to bed, alright? I love you."

"I love you, too. Get home soon, okay?"

I don't reply, because I can't lie to him about going home. Instead, I stare out at the sunrise and the wide expanse of ocean stretched out before me. Alex would love this view. We would have a blanket near the edge of the cliff but not too close otherwise Alex would get anxious. We would sit on the blanket, another wrapped around the both us, and we would watch the sunrise. His face would split in the most beautiful smile, a mixture of awe and happiness...he just needs someone who could smile like that with him.

"Jack?"

"You'd love this view."

"Jack, you're scaring me. I'll come and pick you up to save you the walk." I can hear hurried shuffling in the background on Alex's end of the line, the jingling of keys and the slamming of the front door. "Stay right where you are, okay? Now where are you?"

"I love you so much." It comes out as a near whisper as I continue to stare straight ahead, my brain still screaming static yet this is the clearest I have been able to think for a long time.

"Wait! Jack, don-"

Before he can even finish his sentence I hang up. Placing my phone back in my pocket I glance down at the drop I am about to face. It is such a long way down to the beach. It looks enough to end it all. End the lack of purpose. End the tiredness. End the static. That ever so appealing eternity of sleeping is mere moments away from my grasp. I can feel my phone going off in my pocket, but I ignore it. I down the little whiskey that is left in my paper cup, then I relax my grasp on the cup and let it fall.

It's like I'm letting go.

Taking a deep breath, I take in my surroundings one last time. Everything here, the ocean, the sunrise, the beach, will be the last things I ever see. It would be nice to have Alex here, to kiss him one last time, but that would only make things more complicated. He would try to stop me, but I am certain of who I want to be.

I want to be Jack Barakat: former guitarist of All Time Low, 1988 to 2015.

Then I jump. I leap off of the cliff face as if I am chasing the Sun, trying to get a hold of it. And as I fall, I don't feel fear. I feel a sense of relief, it's like ripping off a plaster. For a moment I am just hit with all of the shit from the past year, but then I feel more free than I have felt in a long time.

This is how it feels to be free.

This is how it feels to let go.

This is how it feels to take a fall.