Moving on. Having to let go. Even when she does have someone else to cushion her fall. She thinks it’s the fall itself that hurts the most. Especially everything that she hits on her way down. The rushing air in her lungs as she watches everything around her being destroyed.
It’s like a tornado, the way it rips through everything. No amount of false hope or undying denial will keep it all together. Every memory, every spoken word, every kiss and touch goes flying down with her. She throws her hands out as far as she possibly can to catch them, but they slip right through her fingertips.
She wants the fall to be over. She wonders if it’s too late to get back to the edge where she was pushed from, or if she should try to fall harder and faster. Her stomach turns in every direction as she remembers the look on his face as he watched her slip right out of his hold and down the cliff. Her heart rips from the pressure in the air, and his sickly smile.
In that moment where she braces for impact and everything seems to be balling up inside of her, that’s when she lets go.
Right before she hits rock bottom.
She never lets herself go that far down. She picks herself up right before impact. And she sores high into the sky. Into the clouds, and far away from that edge, where she knows she’s safe and sound.