The Weird Divide

I take measured breaths, with no discernment as to air quality. This place I've landed is a staunch, bold canyon. I've fallen short, and everyone can see the loneliness that failure brings. Everyone is one on the other side, celebrating each other, helping each other unstrap the parachute that brought them so uniformly to the same location. That they are not aware of my disconnection, that's what hurts.



Sure, they know I'm here, how could they not? They send their condolences on paper airplanes that their grandparents taught them to build, not one of them falling into the abyss that divides us. I catch one, unfold it, and inside is a note from my parents, my friends, my love, and everyone I ever wished I could be more like....



It reads, in bold print, " We wish you were here."



The sentiment falls flat on the ground, so heavy that it throws dust in my face. I grow to resent them, I envy their ability to hide weaknesses. I want nothing more than to be with them, on the other side, to not be a focal point for their unified pity.



I will camp here tonight.... Tomorrow I will make my descent....