Take That Jump

I specifically remember that moment. Three feet separated me from reaching the other side of the stream. The stream flowed no faster than 2 miles an hour, but it felt more like I was on a yellow raft in the rough terrains of the Indian Ocean from the opening scene of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. I looked to my left and there was the safe route. There was the bridge that would easily take me back to the campsite. But there in front of me was the challenge. Just take the jump. Jumping three feet is miniscule when I think of my true physical abilities. Nonetheless, my imagination started playing movie reels of worse scenario situations like it was some sort of FOX reality television show. What if I miss it by half an inch, causing me to fall over, fall on my head on another rock, and become paralyzed from the neck down? What if I hit the rock and it becomes the last amount of pressure it can take in before it cracks the ground and an earthquake occurs? What if there's an animal on the rock and I kill it, but its family and crew come out to fight me in vengeance? The fact that none of my scenarios make any sense at all doesn't matter; they seemed real. The worse that could possibly have happened was me missing the rock and finding myself sinking in half a foot of water.

So what did I do?

I took the safe bridge. Maybe the little respect you had for me has diminished to nothing or maybe you are encouraged that there is someone more cowardly than yourself. However you may feel, this is my life and these are the actions that I take. Oh Wizard, oh wizard of oz, would you let Dorothy go home, and give me some courage. My thick fur is the facade of empty promises, and my roars are these poetic words of wisdom and scattered confident moments in my character, but at the end of the day, I will not bite. I will not yell. I will not jump. I will not live.

Which is why I am here. So I don't care anymore. I don't care how much this is going to hurt. I don't care how afraid I am. I don't care that this is vague. I don't care that you are so vain to think I'm talking about you. I don't care that I'll probably be sulking about life for about a week or more. I am sick of taking the bridge. Let me take that jump. Let me take that jump. Let me take that jump!!!

Stop writing and take that