Breathe Easy

Please, no. Please don’t rush this. Don’t ask me to jump just as the storm blows in.
I’ve been waiting on the ledge of my imaginary rooftop for two thousand nights, willing myself to jump. But I haven’t.
Not yet.
There were so many moments that I peeked over the edge.
I can’t count how many times I shifted back and hurled forward, begging my mind to just go, just do it.
It was time, wasn’t it? I asked this every single day.
I’d been waiting up there, all alone, for years. If it wasn’t the right time by now, I’d surely missed it.
But I’m still here.
For one reason or another, I’ve ended every day with the decision to give tomorrow a chance.
Tomorrow, something will change. Tomorrow, it will all be worth it.  Tomorrow, I’ll win.
A skeptic finding faith in the days ahead.
I would laugh if it weren’t me.
But out of nowhere, something did change. Tomorrow was better. It was worth it.
By the hand of the universe, the tables finally turned.
Now, I can breathe easy. I haven’t cleared the ledge just yet, but I could.
I feel brave.
The only thing holding me back, same as always, is pursuit of the perfect moment.
Don’t rush. Don’t miss your chance. Take it slow. Follow your gut.
Life is so contradictory.
I’m finally ready to jump, confident that I will fly instead of fall. But it would be downright stupid to leap with the lightning.
I may feel invincible for the first time in ages, but I’m weathered enough to know that I’m not actually fireproof.
Not yet.


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