something i wrote

Laws of gravity. I am looking out at downtown through the thick glass of the window in the hotel room. The lights are blurred and twisted with the night sky, making swirls of color that look like distant sparklers - those fiery sticks that I once saw Lucy’s face over as we held them between us on a New Year’s eve. I am wondering how thick the glass is. How far am I going to have to back up in order to gain enough momentum to burst through? Will I have to move the bed? Will I have to move the desk? Will I have any failed attempts? (What comical treachery it would be if I ran all the way across the room, intending to break the glass of the window and fall down eighteen floors to the street below, only to bounce off and land on the soft beige carpet of the hotel room. The hollow thud of my body rebounding from the glass would ring in my ears.) I am fiddling with my hands. It is one of the things that I have never been able to control. One of the many things. It is not because I am nervous. I am not nervous. It is not because I am scared of heights or of death or of loss. I have larger and more important things to fear. I wring my hands and look out of the window because it is something that my mind wants to do, therefore I am forced to do it. These hands are chapped and cracked, bloody circuits running through the surface of the skin – too much hand washing. But would too much soap and water make a man jump out of a hotel window to his death? No. Not even my sickly mind could fathom that insanity. In fact what would make a man jump out of a window intending to die? Drugs? Money? Depression? Obsession? Possibly. My reasons tend to be slightly more complicated however. They all revolve around a loss. A loss of dignity, of love, of patience, of power. Somehow, loss is involved. You might say that I am profoundly affected, rather than sad or upset. This answer seems to be the only one. It is what makes sense, it is what she would have wanted. Lucy. She made me understand what exactly it was that was supposed to happen. This is supposed to happen. I have methodically gone through every motion. I have successfully followed through with each step of this large plan. I feel that for once, I am not submitting to the wants of my mind, I am submitting to what is right and destined for me. I am following the laws of the universe. Of gravity. I am doing right by her and that is all that matters anymore. With these thoughts in my mind, I decide that backing up as far as possible, all the way to the door, moving all obstacles out of the way, and running full speed will surely get me through the window. It will allow me to break through the glass, into the cold night air. I push the nightstand against the wall, allowing a space for the bed to be moved sideways, lengthwise along the wall. I push against the mattress and put my fingers under the cold steel of the bed frame. It moves easily along the carpet. I push the desk and chair to one side. There is my path. It is open and clear and ready. I walk to the door of the hotel room and turn, pressing my back against it. I look down at my body, the last time I will see it in tact. I begin to run. I run as fast as I can at the glass, and feel my arms come up to my face automatically, protecting it. I feel my feet pound the carpet and I see the lights of the city swaying in front of me as I run. Then the glass is against my arms, my stomach, my legs. It is giving way. It is shattering. I can distantly hear the noise, but my ears are filled with a more immediate ringing. I have broken through. I feel for a moment that I am flying. I feel my arms reach out to each side of my floating body. I feel my eyes open. I feel my legs kicking in the air. I am born to the last few moments of my life. I am a new child, at the mercy of those around him. I am helpless and naked and free and so alive for those last few seconds. My infantile body is floating in the womb of the night. They say that your life flashes before your eyes when you know you are about to die. It does. As the floating feeling disappeared so quickly and the falling sensation commenced, it all flashed before me. I saw every second of my life. I saw Lucy’s face before me and I saw every moment we ever experienced together. It was like living all over again. It was like someone giving me one last chance to experience everything. To change anything. To understand it all. There was a peace. It was a transfusion of enlightenment that was injected into me with the laws of gravity. It was the falling that showed me. I understood what Lucy really meant.