Maybe it was just the idea. The idea of a moment so precious I could keep it with me forever. The presence of another human sharing everything- maybe that's what initially, drew me in.
Or maybe it was something more magical- and not in the literal sense either. Rather, perhaps it was something of greater power then my own wand could produce. Who knew. There could –maybe- have been something greater drawing her to him and him to her.
But, truly, what was this fixation and falsehood of 'love'? Was it all encompassing? Could she fall into it's depths and retrieve herself afterwards or would it circle around her, squeezing out all that she had. Leaving her worse then she had to begin with.
Love was easy, in theory, but in practice it took a lot more. It took fate. It took trust. It took the ability to jump into something with your eyes closed, to not rely on planned and trusted results- to just be.
And that wasn't me.
So where was I to be left? Would I remain –always- in this mix of worlds, loving but not trusting to be loved? To feel for another yet too afraid to tell them in fear they would return the favour? Or fear that they wouldn't? Why was I left like this?
So, realistically, perhaps I should have stuck to my original idea- to give up on love, to never accept it as real. It was a simple tale to draw in those folly- ones who wear their heart on their sleeve.
I should have.
But I never did.
Slowly and surely.
Deep breath.
Toes off edge.
And jump.