Falling in love with you was like jumping out of a plane – with one too many parachutes.
I had never done it before, the exhilarating rush of the fall caught my breathe at first.
But then I began to worry about when to pull the shoot. Afraid to fall, afraid to hit the ground too hard, I pulled up too fast.
When I kept falling, I thought something had gone wrong, so I pulled open another chute.
And another.
And another.
At each milestone I began to fall slower.
13,000 feet – still going strong, but controlled. You asked me to be your girlfriend after months of summer lovin’.
10,000 feet – you take my breath away, slower. The first few dates, managing long distance. Facetimes and text messages, late at night.
8,000 feet – I feel the anxiety pumping in my veins, I pull the reins. After the “I love you”s lose their glamour. Do I?
5,000 feet – losing sight of where we came from, looking to where we’re going. Texts and calls less frequent, I’m looking towards my future – with or without you.
3,000 feet – I can see the ground beneath my feet, the end in sight. A spring break vacation spent with your family, tensions high. We fight behind closed doors in a cold Northern state, far from home.
1,000 feet – this is it, make it or break it, fear in our hearts of what will happen. We know it will soon be over. A bad taste in our mouths when we kiss, the passion isn’t there. You don’t say “I love you” quite like you did before.
0,000 feet – my feet slam onto the ground. I’m on my own, but I’m alive. The excitement is over, but this is when I truly start living. You ask me if I love you, I’m scared, but I say “I love you, but I’m not IN love with you.” I feel broken, yet alive.
One Page, One Day Writing 