Falling

I fell fast, and I fell far. I loved it.

That sentence could figuratively stand for so many things in my life. Today its meaning is literal. Somewhere in the beginning of school, I decided that this year would finally be a time to start anew. Why wouldn't it? I'm slowly preparing myself to leave my home and my comfortable way of life, so of course it has to change.

I started by jumping.

Head first.

From 13,000 feet.

It was like nothing I had expected. It was so cold; so quiet. There was no rush of adrenaline, no scream of terror or of rapturous joy. No conscious thought. Only overwhelming peace. Silence. Life. 

I jumped on October 3rd. The plans came together so fast that when I realized what day it would be, I knew it would be something big. Exactly six years after my brother acted on a decision to end his life, I acted on a decision to start mine. To date, it's a decision that hasn't disappointed me.

I'm 21 and I'm only just beginning to figure this out. Since then I've made some steps that not everyone would appreciate as being truly important, but I think they are. Body art and jewelry, being Santa Clause to my niece and nephew, reaching the mark of being 1 year single. The big things are yet to come, but recognizing the smaller accomplishments makes me feel like I might actually be doing something worthwhile as I wait for them.

I constantly wish I was back at October 3rd. If I try really hard, I can still feel the silence of that trip back to Earth. But I guess that's why we move forward; so you can find out what's next and yet still remember what it was like before. You can't get back into the plane, but really... who would want to?