It’s like falling into an abyss, a dark hole to which there is no bottom. All you do is fall and fall and keep on falling. After the first few seconds of screams are over, your mind begins to deceive you that you are not in any immediate danger. “Maybe this is how skydivers feel”, it coerces, wanting you to drop your guard. You take a moment and consider it, “He may be right” you say. You tell yourself that it’s not as bad as it looks.
Despite the fact that you are falling to your doom, you loosen your muscles, unclench your fist and open your eyes. You begin to look around and catch a glimpse of your surrounding: to that open window over there and the doctor having a smoke behind the service delivery entrance of the cancer rehabilitation center; away from the prying and judgmental eyes that may seek to crucify him for his supposed betrayal: his inability to quit smoking. You see the teenager about to take 20 sleeping pills and the one in the bath tub with a razor blade in his hand. You see the dance tutor who is desperate to catch the attention of one of his students, whom he loves beyond that which is humanly possible but who is under the curse of the friend-zone. You see his desire to save her from all the jerks and doodoo heads that she always seems to attract but has been denied the chance to.
Your heart begins to bleed as you see all of this pain and sorrow hidden in the cauldron of night; the many tear soaked pillows that tell many a heart wrenching tale. You momentarily forget yourself, saying a prayer for them to whomever will hear and hope that theirs will not be as yours. For the author of your story has all but sealed your fate.
You are still falling, falling through time and this time, you get to watch the greatest and worst horror flick of all; worse than The Exorcism of Emily Rose or The Conjuring; you are made to watch the highlight reel of your existence; of a life you had squandered. You get a chance to see who you would have turned out to be had you made better choices: had you partied less and loved more; had you saved more and spent less; had you given your life a value tag rather than allowing it to be dragged through the Mick and Cranny for worthless relationships and short lived thrills.
I look at the man I would have become and find myself at a loss; not for words but for sight, for a vision I should have had but didn’t. I am sad; sad for the many people that have, and continue to suffer because of my selfishness; for the many that will never experience freedom or lasting fulfillment due to my passivity; the tears and anguish of those who are forever resided to their gloom, all because I was not brave enough to chase after my hearts desire.
I would have gone back, back to repentance, to seek for mercy and hit the refresh button…but I can’t. For mine is a story in its final chapter; the curtain call is in, it is time to take a bow. The show has been a disaster but that ship has sailed. As I keep falling, my audience flashes through my mind and I begin to weep; not for having failed Him, but for having failed myself in front of Him. He gave me all I needed and made all possibility possible but then I blew it. I became a disappointment and in my shame, I ran and hid from Him. I caused a rift between us, a hole, a crevice too massive to be filled, and forever it is what shall be used to describe me: the gap that separates us, the hole that stands between us.
I close my eyes and wait for the inevitable; the fate that I have succumbed to. I dread what comes next…