Letting Go

"Jump."

"Just do it."

"No one will care.  No one will notice your passing."

These are the thoughts that pass through Michael's head as he stands on the outside of the bridge railing.  It is unclear what has brought Michael to this point. He has a good job, friends that love him and God smiles down good fortune towards him continually.  Yet, on a bridge bracing against the cold December wind, Michael has come to the point to end his life.

"What are you waiting for?, The Voice chimes in.  "Are you scared? There is nothing to fear.  There is nothing at the end.  No pain, no more suffering, no more feeling lonely, no more.  Feel the wind across your face.  The exhilaration of the speed of the fall.  It is just but a small step towards freedom."

Michael leans out from the railing, closes his eyes and imagines the feel of the wind, the rush of the fall.  It excites him.  He starts to loosen his grip on the railing, to relax his body, to become one with the fall.  He envisions the nothing at the end.

At that moment a strong gust of wind hits Michael, jarring him from his dream, knocking him back into the railing.  Instinctively he clutches the railing, like a child clutching his Mommy when scared.  Doubt crosses Michael's mind as to this task he has taken upon.

"I can't do this", Michael speaks aloud to himself.  "What am I doing on this bridge? This is not the answer."

"Yes it is."  The Voice comes back coolly and reassuring.  "Think about all those that never invite you to all their good times.  How often are you the one to call them, to only find out about some party that you only get invited to at that moment? You are but an after thought to them, only to be called upon when they need something from you or when they need to unload on you the excitement of their life."

"No.  You lie.  My friends are not like that.  They will miss me."

"You sound so certain, but I hear the doubt in your voice.  You don't really believe the words you speak."

"I-I-can't"

"You can.  You will.  Just lean out against the wind.  Then just let go.  Gravity will do the rest."

"I CAN'T", yelled Michael out into the howling wind.

"Don't be a chicken Mikey, you might like it.  Never know till you try."  The Voice goads with a melodic tone reminiscent of school age children in the playground.

Trembling from the cold and the fear of the unknown, Michael once again prepares himself to do the unthinkable, take his own life.  Once more he steadies himself against the wind that buffets him back to the bridge, nearly having to push against it at times.  Closing his eyes, Michael lets it all go in his mind, family, friends, work.  He starts to wonder how it feels to not feel.  Not to have to worry about anything ever again.  Not to have to pay bills.  Not have to be not noticed again.  He starts to wonder who might attend his funeral.  Which friends and co-workers will stand at the casket asking themselves, "Could I have done more?" A smile creeps across his face, a smug little smile of satisfaction of knowing that he will be the center of attention for once, even if it is his death that must bring it about.

The Voice smiles, if The Voice had a face to smile from.

As the smug satisfaction washes over Michael, a most fortunate thing happens, a vision of beauty enters his mind.  A girl; one whose name is Lunastaja.  She works at the coffee shop that Michael stops in at every morning.  Lunastaja always treats him well, but that is her job though, right? No. It is something more with him, there is a warmer smile, a brighter inflection in her voice.  She knows my name.  She remembers it from the first time I gave it to her.  That accounts for something?

Doubt begins to push out the satisfaction that was there earlier.  No longer sure of the nothing that awaits him, Michael doubts.  Faltering against the determination that was there earlier, The Voice intercedes.

"You know she does not love you nor have any sort of interest in you, especially of one in any sort of romantic sense.  Her niceness, is only because she is serving you, not from any interest.  What do you have to offer anyways? Utter boredom from the pitiful life you lead.  A sudden absence from your daily mornings would have no affect on her life, she would just move on towards the next guy, to be a smiling whore towards.  After all, she only wants your money, for you to tip her better.  Which you do like some love struck puppy dog.  Disgusting."

"Love? I don't love her."

"You're right, you don't, so why hesitate?"

"I don't know."

"So...let...go."  The Voice says tenderly.

With that, Michael let go.

Michael let go of the thought, of the feeling, of the desperation, of the feeling of having nothing.  Michael realized in an instant that he had things to live for.  His friends would miss his company; his co-workers would as well.  He may not be the most popular around, but he is always there for them and he shall continue to be.  As for Lunastaja, Michael will find out if that smile an brightness in her voice is just 'doing her job' or is there a genuine interest there.

He'll know tomorrow when he asks her out.