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Breathe. Blink. Pump blood. Isn't it weird how we don't have to consciously do these things? They just seem to happen. 
I sit on the very edge of the bridge over the stream, watching the water split around protruding rocks. 
After a few minutes, he sits down next to me. 
"This is dangerous, you know," he says. Without looking up, I answer. 
"It's only dangerous if someone pushes me." The bright sun beats down on my exposed neck. I look up and blink. 
After a few seconds if silence, his lips curl into a smile. "You don't have to worry. I won't push you."
And sitting here, in the edge, I know that it's okay. He won't push me. 
Blink. Breathe. Pump blood. Intertwine my fingers through his. Actions that happen naturally, automatically, and I have no say. 

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