We fell in love. It's the only way to describe it. Our love was like a bottomless pit, infinite and unforeseeable. We fell fast, hands intertwined as we dove into the emptiness, filling it as we went. So bright was the chasm, that I was blinded, couldn't see but only imagine the amazing adventures ahead. Or maybe so dark that the obstacles hurtling straight at us would not be discovered until we hit them. It was this uncertainty, this fear of falling, or maybe just a fear of stopping. This fear of hitting rock bottom is what made me let go. I pulled my hand out of yours and tried to grab anything I could find. I found a foot-hold and I took it. I didn't think, or tried not to think of you falling, alone and feeling the fear that made me let go. But you can't let go now, can you? Because your not holding on to anything. I made the decision first and left you with nothing. But I didn't think of you as I clawed my way out, finding more and more foot and hand holds, clambering desperately out of this dirty hole we were tricked into thinking was love. Who knows, maybe it was love, but I was afraid. I like set in stone outcomes, and with you I couldn't pin point where we were heading. I don't want to think about if you've ever stopped falling, or if you slammed into rock bottom. But I am thinking about you, aren't I? I guess that's why I'm writing this, to tell you my side of the story about our fall.
