Looking back, you can see with a near-certain clarity that you jumped into a void. You may not have realised its depth, or the weight you were carrying, but you jumped nonetheless. And, as seems the way with these things, eventually someone realised you were falling. That you cannot jump from such a height without hurting yourself.
With time comes lucidity, and it is now grievingly obvious that you were going to land after all. That although nobody knew what was at the base, it would be painful, perhaps even more destructive than the initial leap. And yes, it was destructive, that reaching, loving leap.
Even if, at the time, you thought you were flying.
