Late Night Out

*2am*

My first instincts told me to cry out, thrash and scream. I was on the brink of doing so, taking a deep inhale to bellow out demands. Before doing so, the ground instantly reconnected with my feet and the world stopped tilting. I shot him a death stare, squinting my eyes menacingly. He only shrugged, his eyes drooped a tad. Straitening out what he had rumpled up I was yanking and tugging in all areas to smooth out my clothes.

Less than amused and waiting for a self explanatory explanation he wasn't about to receive.

"I can't wan my fear of heights just for the occasion; it's not like a light switch when I can flick on and off however I please. Although I can offer you the second best thing. Justification." I slowly tread into men's unbeknownst territory, for good reason.

I didn't look up to see what he thought because at the moment, my shoes were a thousand times more captivating.

"Of course the physical thought of plummeting to your death sounds oh so appealing. It's the call of the void that frightens me. Look at this building so high up above the streets below. Look at that tempting railing that could be calling for someone to use it as a one time hurdle. A clear and open opportunity. That's what I am afraid of - the confirmed possibility that one could throw it all away with one step." I rattled out in spite of the restraints trying to bind me away and seal my mouth shut.

"That explains a lot," was his vague answer to an onslaught of deep analysis. Equivalent to when one types a long, well thought out speech to which the other replies with one, measly word. Or one letter if it comes to that.

"You might as well save your breath. Tell it to me straight up because we only have one night to vent it all out to a pair of one-use ears." Blunt as it may sound, this was no time to sugarcoat the ugly truth; my ears were wide open.

"Mistaken fear for something else, so far that you're mind has delved into such dark places that throwing yourself off a hundred story building sounded doable." He paints a clear picture with his words.

I come to my defense. "Answer me this then: Does or does not every human have that opening to think such things?

It's a universal topic we tend to stumble over. Once we're sucked into that black hole you can visualize that darkness, blinding you from outstretched arms. We want to submerge ourselves deeper. You're mind has shadowed your common sense. It seems no one cares that you're gone. Few do not come to the realization that it's a cry for help. How ridiculous is it that they're only slapped awake when a tragedy has taken place. Like they push and push to see how far you'll stretch. You don't want to give into their wishes and you're struggling to stay afloat. Down another dark corner you ask yourself if your ever been that trigger and it's all too -"

A wad of woolly bobbles engulf my face that I now notice is horrifically contorted.

I can't remember the last time I took a breath.

Then again, I can't remember the last time my lungs have felt so free.

"You must really not want to see me again." His warm breath beats down on my scalp.

"How so?" My words muffled by his trench coat.

"You're pouring from the depths of your soul. No well-minded individual would enjoy conversing about such heavy feelings. We prefer to leave these word unsaid -" He sounded like an over friendly psychiatrist.

My arms were tucked into my body, but I still had enough wiggle room to tap furiously against his chest like a wrestler surrendering. I didn't realize I was trembling and shivering, on the verge of a waterfall of weakling tears.

"Can we just talk like regular human beings just for a moment? I know we enjoy the philosophical sophistication that the other one brings, but I can't be wise and sop like a fool all at once."