They say most suicide attempts are not serious or real, they’re cries of rage or for help.
I walked toward the traffic railing. As if nothing else mattered, I ran, channeling an Olympic hurdler, striding light, fast and determined.
I used my arms to catapult myself over the rail.
I did not get on the ledge to be talked down. I jumped quickly, without recourse, falling headfirst, fast and hard into the wind and empty space below me.
I reached back for the rail. It wasn’t there.
In the midst of my free fall, I said to myself these words, words I thought no one would ever hear me repeat: What have I done? I don’t want to die. God, please save me!
I FELL at a speed of 75 mph.
The end was imminent.
PS, STFU Crackdawg