Sometimes I think I’m in love. I soar above the clouds, the wind as my wings, and every cell on fire. Then my heart feels a quick pain. A sharp hurt. A steep fall to depression. The slide of the unrequited. Another wasted high.

I remind myself of reality. Life sucks but that’s no excuse to be emo. Every once in awhile my cold logic prevails and the tears stop. The scars heal and laughter sounds in my voice once again. That’s happening less and less now days.

The world is not round. There is an end, a sharp cliff, and I stand on the brink. On the edge of Hell. It is a long fall to the bottom and nothing is there. Nothing except the Dark. I am afraid of the Dark.

We are creatures of Light, of love and hope. The Dark is our natural enemy, one that can overpower us. But I hate the Light and am curious for the Dark. For the silent malice.

So insidiously it creeps into the souls of men. Disappointment and despair. Combined with rage and hate. Disaster. There is no end to the dark. An abyss so deep waits for those who taste the fear but have none to turn to. To turn them back. Some are saved and pulled back from the precipice, and others caught in the fall by their shining knight.

But most drown in the terror on the way down. Few survive such an encounter with the Dark, and they return as empty shells. Lesser beings to their former selves.

And now I am faced with a decision, so close to an end. Can I join the Dark? Become one with the soulless existence? Will it accept me or shall I be spurned, lost in the depths? Can I be folded into the Dark, so seamlessly that I become invisible an unknown to the Light that has rejected me? Can I have revenge, the ultimate disregard of a gift freely given?

I think I can.

There is no savior to catch me and no ties to the Earth. So I allow myself to fall from the edge, away from the light. And into the Dark.