I am beginning to believe that these moments where you balance on the edge of a knife, leaning one moment towards joy, wobbling the next towards sorrow, cut you into pieces no matter which way you end up falling.
And maybe there is something exhilarating about that split second when you hang in the balance.
And maybe our hearts get too good at convincing us that we’re flying instead of falling.
Because once you’re falling, you have no choice but to hit the bottom of whatever side of the blade you’ve teetered off of. You crash. And whether it’s crashing into bliss or into loss, something somewhere inside of you always gets broken.
And if I had the power to turn it back, to shift my weight, to completely step away from the edge-of-a-blade moment altogether, I might choose to use it right now as I sit here, on my way to becoming a liar because I told my Mom I would not cry myself to sleep tonight.
I might choose to bend time back to before.
Before I decided that your eyes reflected the blue of the sky back to me just right.
Before I wanted more.
-Jessi Sanders 2013