l’appel du vide
Clifftops. Bridges. Train platforms. Hotel balconies. Open windows on high floors. Ferry decks at night. The space between saying “I could” and “I will.”
I’ve visited them all.
Most offered a perfectly pleasant view – A few offered something more.
Nothing serious. Just a suggestion. A reminder that every boundary is, technically, crossable. That the body can be interrupted. That a life is held together by an astonishing number of decisions nobody notices making.
I suspect this is normal?
The thought arrives. You acknowledge it. It moves on:
Like hearing the phone ring at midnight and knowing your life may divide into a before and an after.
Like understanding that every city is full of people who once left somewhere else.
Like realizing you could tell the truth.
Like realizing you could lie.
Like wondering whether the person you’ve become was inevitable.
The thought that your entire life could have unfolded differently from a single conversation.
Like standing near an edge and learning, once again,
that you prefer the ground.