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5: Back on the bridge

I'm in blue. Well, thanks to whoever is here with me. Whether it was me or an angel or the devil himself.

Why didn't you just let me jump from the beginning? Why all this stalling? What am I still doing here?

"Are you really going to keep your thoughts to yourself? You know I can still hear them."

I really didn't think I'd be here for so long. If I did, I would have probably thought I was having second guesses.

Maybe I am having second guesses. But I didn't before. What changed? Is there a strand inside of me that is still hanging on to this, miserable life of mine?

But why?

And more importantly, why now?

Again, what changed?

I started crying out of frustration. I don't know what I want to do now. I feel like I'm now part of the abyss in front of me. Nor dead or alive.

Just a void in my own pale existence.

Ugh, the frustration burned off, leaving a hollow pit in my gut. The world sounds like it's on mute – the city's a distant hum. The water below, once a beckoning escape, now mirrored the hollowness within me.

Was this the answer? To trade one kind of void for another? Tears streamed down my face, unchecked, a silent scream against the indifference of it all.

Then, this flicker. Not a reason, not yet, but a spark of something. Curiosity maybe? Or just defiance against the numbness.

Maybe answers weren't the point. Maybe all I craved was a feeling, anything but this suffocating emptiness.

Closing my eyes, I focused on that ember, that flicker of rebellion. Yeah, laughable against the abyss, but hey, even the dimmest light can pierce the deepest darkness, am I right?

Maybe, just maybe, it was enough.

Shuddering breath in, I ran a hand through my hair after wiping away my tears. Dusty clothes, city lights painting a mocking picture of the path not taken down there. But the world still had sound, even if muted. Gurgling water, city hum, a bird chirping its morning song somewhere. Not much, but a start, I guess.

The once-enticing abyss now reflected back a distorted image of myself, a pale echo of who I used to be.

Was this a cruel joke? A limbo of sorts before the final curtain call? The hollowness threatened to consume me whole, turning me into a living ghost.

Maybe I am that inexistent voice.

My next move remained unclear. But one thing was certain: I wasn't the same person who stood on this ledge just hours ago. The ember of defiance burned brighter, a tiny beacon in the storm.

I feel your tenderness around me, a tiny beacon in this mess. I opened my eyes, a new resolve setting in.

Maybe jumping wasn't the answer after all.

Maybe there's still something to fight for, even if I don't know what it is yet.

Looking out at the city, the muted sounds slowly sharpened. Distant sirens wailed, a car backfired somewhere, and a faint melody drifted from a nearby street. It wasn't much, but it was a symphony compared to the silence before.

The world was still a mess, my problems unsolved, my future uncertain. Maybe this is a hint of something resembling a plan. A plan I knew nothing of.

Or didn't want anything to do with it.

It wasn't a grand solution, but it was a direction, a reason to get off this damn bridge, maybe. And then see what the sunrise had to offer.

Standing up, I brushed myself off. My clothes were a disaster, but at least I was still here. My legs were able to carry my void self once more.

With a sigh, I pulled out my crumpled pack of cigarettes, the cracked box glaring back at me accusingly. I forgot I had it on me.

Just like my life, a little beat up and probably about to let me down. Flipping open the lid, I reached for my lighter. Come on, you stupid thing, this isn't the time to malfunction.

The first click produced nothing but a spark and a hiss. Frustration bubbled up, mirroring the turmoil inside me. Second click. Another spark, another sputter. Was this lighter mocking me too?

Finally, on the third attempt, a reluctant flame sputtered to life. A weak, flickering thing, but it was enough.

Taking a long drag, I let the smoke curl around my face. It didn't solve anything, this cigarette.

But for a moment, it filled the emptiness.

Maybe the fight wasn't some grand solution, some heroic quest.

Maybe it was just a series of tiny victories, one shaky step at a time.

Maybe it was just about sticking around long enough to see what the damn sunrise looked like.

Another drag, another exhale. The smoke tasted stale, but it was a taste of life, of a future that wasn't yet written.

The smoke curled upwards, a thin wisp against the vast canvas of the night sky. It was lovely thinking about nothing for a moment and just focusing on the smoke.

It was a fleeting thing, a temporary escape that would eventually dissipate into the nothingness above. But in that moment, it was a lifeline, a fragile connection to something outside the suffocating darkness.

Each inhale was a desperate attempt to fill the void, a craving for something more than the bitter emptiness that had been preying on me. With each exhale, the smoke carried away a fragment of doubt, a tendril of despair. It wasn't a solution, far from it. But for now, it was enough.

I think.

As the cigarette burned down, the ember glowing defiant against the creeping darkness, a strange sense of clarity washed over me.

Life wouldn't magically transform because I decided to stick around. The problems that led me here wouldn't vanish in a puff of smoke. But maybe, just maybe, there was a way to face them head-on.

The last embers turned to ash, a tiny replica of the oblivion I had so narrowly avoided. But unlike the emptiness of the ledge, this one held a different kind of finality. It was the ending of a chapter, a closing of the door on despair.

Flicking the spent cigarette over the railing, I watched it spiral down into the darkness below. A symbol, perhaps, of what I was leaving behind. The world was still shrouded in uncertainty, the path ahead unclear. But with a newfound determination, I took a shaky breath and pushed myself to my feet.

The sky was beginning to lighten in the east, the first hint of dawn painting the horizon with a soft, hopeful glow. It wasn't much, but it was a start. A flicker of light in the darkest hour, a reminder that even the smallest ember can ignite a fire.

And for now, that tiny flame was all I needed to keep moving forward, one step at a time, out of the darkness and towards the sunrise.