We must seem immeasurably tiny to you, those of us standing on the ground. Like flecks rather than people. Though I'm sure you've intended for it to be that way. To go somewhere that for once, you can stand above us.
I wonder if you can see me in the crowd.
I've learnt you believe you've always been a pushover. Someone people take advantage of, someone they know they can get things out of. You can never say no to anyone, no matter how they feel about you. Though, when you did say no, there wasn't a soul to listen.
A lover with no love. A one-night stand gone wrong.
It was one night after that you found yourself in a police station. It was cold and grey that night. Rain splashed on the ground, like the tears streaking your face. You were too nervous to notice your surroundings. I try to be kind, and two cups of coffee later, you tell your tale, the one with no descriptions, no detail.
A series of the hypothetical, a massive pile of "what if's" and "could've been's". I am powerless. So I try instead to distract you. With books. With music. With television. With anything that will make you think of something besides what has happened.
I am failing. I know this. And I wonder how much time you've left.
To date, I've received 2 2am wake up calls. And if I thought staying on the phone would help, that I was making progress just by being there, then I would have dropped everything to remain on the line. But there haven't been any calls in some time.
Shall you burn your bridges before you can even cross them?
Your eyes scan the crowd again. I can't help but be curious as to what you're thinking. I know what I'd say if I was next to you though. If you could hear me.
I wouldn't repeat myself, and tell you what I've already told you. I wouldn't remind you that none of this is your fault. Because it's already been said, and it's already been done. Instead, I would ask you what color you plan on dying your hair next week. Because I know you'll make it that far.
That's what I'd tell you.
And I'll tell you I'll stick through you throughout everything. Whatever you decide. I'll be there.
You're standing on the edge, fifteen stories up. Palms open, as if they're trying to feel the air.
Time is running out. I've got to say something. I've got to prevent this.
What I won't say is that I've come to rely on you as much as you have on me. I won't admit it, because that shows weakness. And you don't need to know I'm flawed as well. You won't get better if you think all that's left is what I've become. A hallow shell of the girl I once was.
"Please don't do this," I yell desperately. I don't know if you can hear me. "I promise you, if you don't give up, things will get better. I promise."
It happens in slow motion. I feel as though I know its over before it's even started. Spread eagle in the air, you fall gracefully.
I could swear you were smiling.