The Edge

Background Music: Maestoso by Frederic Chopin

Funny isn't it, how a substantial part of our lies balance on the edge of the cliff of trust and happiness. I usually peep over and look down at the fall, the dive into suspicion and paranoia; at the hungry waters, licking away the base of the cliff and devouring every sense of faith.

So, I keep standing there, at the edge of my cliff, contemplating my fate. Will I stand here forever, loving you, holding you in the tight grip of my hug, or let you wander away as I wait; wait until my heart has gone cold? Should I dive into the ocean, the beckoning dance of the hypnotic blue and the giggling white waves? Its mysterious darkness where I may find silence and peace. How it calls to me, deceiving me, luring me with its coy finger, tightening the veins around my neck, and constricting my breath. Yet the wind behind my back taps on my shoulder, climbs up my spine, pulling me away, reminding me of the need to believe, to trust in my world. It tugs at my heart, circles me in earnest and sets my thoughts aflight -- hopes, dreams, love, joy. I don't trust either, both have a tug of war, and I am the rope in the middle.

And I still stand. On the edge. One leg brushing the emptiness of the world below me, where my life escapes, one leg rooted to the earth, where my life blooms. I'll be there. You will find me there. Standing. Watching. Musing.