He was on the verge of a great leap. A leap from a cliff into suspicious waters perhaps concealing shallow rocks. But it was a leap of faith he had to take. One of the curses of life is that it keeps moving forward, no matter how scary the path may be. His fall from the safety of the top of the cliff would not be quick either. It would be a several month-long journey towards what to him was his destiny. Whether this destiny involved smashing against a rock or landing eloquently into deep water, he did not know. However, what he did know was that nothing would stop him. A hard impact would be but a chip on his shoulder, a means to an end. Injuries heal. He knew that the trick to bouncing back was to never give up on his goal. But what was it? Obviously it was happiness, but what did this mean to him. He thought it meant others’ love, but what if his self-love took precedence? How could he love himself? There were several ways. To be comfortable with his appearance and to have achieved a rank on the social hierarchy that warrants applause. He wanted to be ahead of his competition and he wanted to know it. This was the only way he could think of that would make him love himself. As he approached the moment when his feet would leave the ground, anxiety buzzed in the background of his spirit. His thoughts and routines would be underlined by a tingling sensation: a reminder that he was jumping soon. He would not be quite clear of this undertone until he landed in the water. He knew the sensation he would have the moment he hit it, the moment instants before he would find out if he was hitting rocks or penetrating deeper into the water. He knew he would feel a sudden hole and emptiness. It would either transform into satisfaction and relief or into a feeling of despair. Before he was to take this leap, however, he still had some obstacles to overcome. On to those.
