You're on the rooftop of a building. Blue sky, wind's breezing. View might be nice, sure. Peaceful, just what you need. Or so you thought, until you look down. Suddenly, you recognize this feeling inside you. Very, very familiar.

NOT that you want to end this life. Might not love it that much, but definitely not saying goodbye to all the puppies in the world so soon. And the mid-season finale of the series you're watching hasn't even aired yet. No, suicide is not what you're up to. But there's something you can't shake off. You have this urge, an impulse. You want to jump.

Not to die, no. It's not the moment when you hit the ground that you're seeking. It's the moment when you've just left the rooftop. The moment when you've got nothing left to hold on to, when you put all the faith you've ever had on gravity. You try to find a word to describe that feeling. Free? You're not sure.

There is something else you know for sure. You're not gonna do that. You won't allow yourself to. But if you know that already, and if you don't want to die, then why do you want to jump so bad? "Does anyone else want to do it, like I do?", you ask yourself. No one has ever done that, not the normal people you're living among. Chris goes to work every morning, and to the gym in the afternoon. He goes out with the boys on the weekend, seeing some girl who's gonna spend all night calling out his name. Ashley goes home everyday, kisses her boyfriend, talks about her work over dinner, and then they cuddle on the sofa watching who knows what. They might tell you "Yeah, I feel that too." But no, they don't. You don't think so. They have no idea what you're actually feeling right now.

It's very subtle, one might say invisible. A fire, smoldering inside you. Your mind knows something is bad, but this fire's telling you something else. You know that jumping of the building will cost you the chance to meet the person who will spend 50 years of her life loving you. You know that laying in bed all day, ignoring your work might cause you to go looking for a new one. You know that not eating bc you don't want to means you might wake up in the hospital to your parents complaining and lecturing you again. You don't want any of that. Then why does gravity feel so strong on the rooftop? Why is the wind pushing you to the edge? Why is the fire here, whispering in your ears, telling you to do it?

You remember that time, when you were seven. Your father's giving you a lecture. Said it's not good to lie. Also said that you have to be the best at studying. And that you have to respect everyone, no matter what they do. Then he picked up the phone, lied to his coworker right in front of you, then finished the lecture with "But lie isn't always a bad thing." Fast forward 15 years. You can't be sure if any word coming from your mouth was true anymore. You lie when people ask about your job, your girlfriend, your feeling. That is also a lie, cause you don't have a girlfriend and no one ever gave a shit about how you feel or what you want. Telling the truth has never done you any favor. People treat you like shit and no one bats an eye, but you forget to "Good morning" once and everyone loses their mind. And guess what? Being the best at school and college didn't give you the future they promised. Turns out, all of that was nothing but pure bullshit.

You tried working hard. Turns out it's not enough if you're neither talented nor interested. You think about you talent. Turns out it's gone, as you were never allowed to spend time for it. You think about how easy it would be to connect with people, if you've spent time hanging out with friends instead of shutting your door trying to beat them at class.

It was that exact moment of realization when you finally saw the person you've turned into. You've given everything you have hoping for some appreciation which you received. Every decision, every sacrifice you've made, it's all for naught. It was that moment when you questioned yourself. "What if I lived my life the way I wanted, not the way I was asked to?" "What kind of person could I have grown to be?"

You remember people talking about listening to their instinct. "Those weren't exactly rational decisions. They only did what felt right." "What if this impulse is also a kind of instinct? I mean, seriously, what's the difference?"

"What if I just do whatever they told me not to?"

Your eyes open. You are on the edge now.

"What if I jumped?"