Flying, Falling

The wind is cold up here on this cliff, the breeze carried up from the water below. My hair is swishing all around my head. I step closer to the edge, ready to step off. I take in a deep breath, the air tastes salty. I inch closer and closer, the water as welcoming as the day before. I hold my arms out. Calm, deep breaths. I'm right on the edge, the edge of life and death. I lean forward. For a second I feel, as if I'm flying. Then I'm falling. Down, down into the open arms of the chilling water. The cold envelopes me. I close my eyes, and breathe out.