Leap of Faith

I’m falling.

I’ve been falling for a while now.

It’s what happens after you leap.

When you are young and stupid, you leap easily.
Without thought.

And then it happens. You land. Ungracefully.
You smash into pieces.
And it hurts.

But you pull your pieces back together.
You stitch yourself back up.
Get a few scars.

Some places still hurt.

And then it happens again.
You leap.

And then it happens again.
You crash into the rocks.

Your friends shout, “Enough!”
They don’t want you to leap, because it hurts them to see you hurt.
They don’t want you to leap, because they know how it feels to hurt.

And then what?
Well if you are me, you leap. Again.

But you try to learn.
You learn where the rocks are.
You are leaping in your mind—your mind makes the rocks.

And that’s important.

Things can go well.
You can fall forever.
It can happen.

You have to be leaping with a partner.
And you have to trust them, and they have to trust you.
If you lose the trust, the rocks appear.

But there is time.
The rocks are there, but they are not too close.
And if you are careful, you can push them away.
Maybe make them disappear altogether.

Don’t fuck this up.
Don’t make the rocks happen.
Just trust.

Take the fear and the pain and put it in boxes.
Put the boxes away.
Don’t open the boxes.

Just trust.

And in the end,
if your partner violates that trust so badly
and you can’t stop the rocks from appearing
and you get smashed into a million pieces
and there is no way you will ever get put together…

Shhh.
Don’t worry about that.
Life isn’t about that.
Life is about the falling.

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