To My First Love

~Feels like a Tightrope~

I'm on a tightrope. I've brought myself upon this challenge. High up above the ground and it's too late to back down. I've already come too far. However, every time I look down, I'm scared. Don't look down I say; don't think about it! I bobble in my daze as I'm snapped back to reality. I've got to focus. As I keep walking, each step I take makes it harder to stay in place. I want to cross over the line quickly but gravity has other plans for me. Balance is becoming harder with each inch I take and at any moment I feel like I'm going to fall.

I'm hanging on the tightrope. I've slipped and fallen. Dread and horror rush into my eyes as I look down for fear this would be the end. I struggle as my hands are grasping on the coarse rope for dear life. If I let go, I'm going to fall! My body dangling as I try to pull myself up. However, my own weight is pulling me down. As I panic, it only drives me closer to letting go. Everything in my body aches as it screams at me to let go. It's no longer worth holding on to but I don't relent. I will hold on. I don't know where that drive comes from but it gives me strength to bring my body up.

I'm sitting on the tightrope. I've just saved myself and exhaustion has me gassed out. My limbs feel as if they'll tear apart in the slightest movement. I sit there, letting my breathing come to a calm; trying to take rest. As I'm perched in my spot, I look down again. I could've let go, I would've fallen. Everything in me would've been broken. I think about where my mistakes were... Did I make a careless slip on the rope? Did I not do enough? It's my own mind's fault but there's nothing more intimidating than the rope itself. I know it by heart and yet it always feels different. Perhaps, I never really knew the rope— no, I never had the rope.

I'm tied to the tightrope. I can't inch anymore further and the end of the line continues to feel further the more I look. I'm stuck where I am and the rope holds me back. We're both trying to do our jobs and yet I'm trying to find the finish line. The rope is choking me; it's cutting my own circulation. I'm nothing more than The Hanging Man. However, I have not gone in vain. I chose to tackle the tightrope myself and as I am tied to this tightrope, I will not let go. Until we both burn in flames, this bondage I'm in will never be severed. I will pull on the rope; I will fight it. One day the tightrope and I will become one. Until then... I will continue to struggle. I will stumble and slip but I will never fall. I won't let go.