"Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars. You have to let go at some point in order to move forward." - C. S. Lewis
I remember when I was younger playing at the playground near my home. I remember the swings, the slides, the stupid balancing bar. But the monkey bars, the monkey bars were always the hardest challenge. They were the hardest because I could only get so far across before I got stuck and just hung there for a while. And after my arms had gotten tired and my hands had started to ache I still held on because I was determined to make it to the other side. Eventually, even as stubborn as I was, am, I'd realize it wasn't going to happen, and I'd let go. I'd let myself fall to the wood chip covered ground below me, brush myself off and then move on.
I feel as if this is what i'm doing now. Standing on the edge of this cliff, imaginary Edward begging me not to jump. I have to though, he is my monkey bars and this cliff will be my fall to freedom. I'll let go of him and plunge into the cleansing water of the salty sea. The roar of the waves will cleanse my mind of his voice, the water of his touch. Washing away the feel of his skin against mine, the way we felt, loved. The salt will cover the tracks running across my cheeks from the tears I have cried for him, for us. I'll be free. To his voice inside my head, I'll have died. He'll stop appearing, I could move on. Taking a deep breath, I step forward and fall. I release my monkey bars. I'm free.
Just a drabble :)