The December chill sets heavy in his bones, tossing his dark hair in the wind. He didn't wear a jacket, doesn't need one for this, but now the wind is slowly making his limbs shake and his teeth chatter. Being up this high, it feels colder than it did when he left the heated hallways of NYU late this afternoon.
Now, the sun has set and there is a heavy cloud coverage making the water appear black. He's only able to see the water lapping against the cement pillars under the bridge and the rocks along the shore because of the street lamps; the city that never sleeps, but he misses the stars and silence he had back at home.
He calmer than he thought he would be when he made this decision; knows the end result, knows it's the only way. He's thought about the people he's going to hurt, but they don't understand, don't feel the pain he wakes up with everyday. They would happily let him go, let him make this decision if only they could see the shrapnel in his heart, in his soul. If his family and friends, if his fiancée could only understand that there is no amount of pills, or therapy, or positivity that can be forced into his mind to push out the ugly thoughts and hatred his own body has created for himself.
He takes a deep breath in…it shakes as it's released, but there are no tears. He knows this is right, and that everyone will get over it –him.
Making his way over the railing he gives himself a moment to feel this world for one final moment. Like the universe has come to say goodbye, the clouds part and there's a full moon leading a path into the water like he's being called home.
As his hands release the railing, releasing his last chance for safety, there is no panic, no second-guessing, no pain. For the first time since he can remember, there is no pain.