12. The edge
I stand so close to the edge, but still not quite near enough. I spread my arms out and let the wind unfold and take me under it's wings and I will soar away in the sky. I close my eyes and I feel nothing but the salty wind howling in my ears and the salt from the water stinging in my nose. The wind takes me someplace far way and I never have to open my eyes again for the rest of my life, but when I do I can never close them again because of the disappointment running through my veins.
I stand so close to the edge, but not near enough to touch. I'm still miles and miles away in my head, and whenever I decide to decrease the distance between the bright blue waves and me, I only get a little further. No matter how many times I fall into the water and the waves crash through my scalp and ruin me all over again, it will never be enough for me. I can let the sea keep throwing me into the rocks upon which I stand, and I can break and I can stop breathing, but then the excitement would be gone. Even though I would no longer be alive, I would have nothing left to live for either. I look so intense on the walls of water beneath me, breaking on the edge between life and nothingness, green and blue, the land and the sea, and I can see how much they wish they could escape this lonely life they're forced to live. I feel like them. That's mainly why I like standing here and feel nothing just like the wind around me and the water beneath me. It's a caged existence. They spend all their time lying around out there, being nothing in this whole sea of everything, and once in a while when the wind can't stand to be locked up either, they break out together. But when the rage descends they just drift around there without having the power to stop themselves from drifting around. And at some point they reach the shore and fade out on people's feet and get's sucked all the way back to the big blue nothingness of which they became. And I stand there and watch them fade away. They get so happy right before they git, think that it's finally over, and they hurry to crash the lives out of themselves, but as soon as they start getting sucked back into the sea they become nothing but sadness. And it continue like that, ever single wave that has ever faded away will never be long gone. But when they crash , just like they do not long away from my feet, they become static. There is something lucky about crashing themselves as hard as they can, hoping not to be left behind while everyone else goes away, but it never happens. They disappear and the wave become a new kind of wave, having let out everything inside of it.
I stand so close to the edge, but nobody really cares anymore. I take a step forward and even though I can still see the miles and miles between me and falling endlessly, I can't feel the ground anymore. And I know it was just a matter of time and I know that sooner or later I will become a sad wave, just being nothing in this whole wide world of everything. And I fall down from the edge.