I was going to do it. I stood on the edge of that roof, ten stories up. My eyes were focused on the sidewalk, on the concrete. It filled my vision and I saw nothing else, despite the fact that I was nearly a hundred feet above it.

I started to imagine falling towards it, feeling my body hit, melting into the gray.

Lifted a foot and dangled it over the edge.

I could have done it, you know.

I would have done it, if you hadn’t grabbed me, pulled me back.

Did you save me because you felt sorry for me?

Did you save me because you love me?

Or were you just trying to be a hero?

I still don’t know if I’ll ever forgive you.

But I haven’t been to that rooftop since.