It had been a different world the first time we met.
Back then things were, well, simpler.
Humans had frolicked along in our mundane lives solely stressed about job promotions or why we could never truly find love. Okay… maybe that last part was just me. Nevertheless, we existed in a sort of ironic peace. Suffering deep tragedies from our own hands until we had become so desensitized that we simply tuned them out. We concerned ourselves with creating bigger and better technology, with curing diseases, with placing a man on mars. Back then, those who believed in aliens were called conspiracy theorists.
I had been 22-years-old and the most out-of-character 22-year-old I knew. A fact of which I was mainly proud but occasionally saddened due to the loneliness. I was the girl who opted for a night in with my best friend and a batch of shot-shaped-cookies filled with milk over a night on the town on my 21st birthday. The girl who would find her mind flitting away to hundreds of fictional scenarios in which I was finally fulfilling my purpose in life. The girl who got a thrill out of jury duty, yes I'm serious, and who was terrified of wisdom teeth surgery simply because I did not want to lose control of my mind. I was the girl who cared far more about others than they would ever care about me, yet seldom showed it. The girl who was intensely quiet with a brain that would never shut up, who was intensely innocent with a belief that she could kill if the need arose, who was intensely clueless about the workings of her own mind with a clarity on the inner thoughts of all others. I was the girl who took 3 a.m. drives religiously because I found it to be the only time I was truly myself for the world to see.
And so there I was.
It had been exactly 3:23 a.m. I believe. I had glanced down at the clock on the dashboard, really for no reason that I can remember, as I approached the bridge. The only car in sight, as usual, I rolled the windows down in anticipation of the wind blowing through me and the sound of the current far below. I was tempted nearly every time to close my eyes and truly take in the moment only to remember that there was no way I was going to be another death-by-bridge statistic. I also had no desire to die in general, but that's just the way my brain works.
It had been so dark that I would chalk it up to sheer luck that I happened to catch sight of the shadowy figure as I drove past, except for the fact that I've never really believed in luck or coincidences. Everything happens for a reason, believe me, I'd know.
Even as I pulled to the side, I told myself that I was just seeing things. Perhaps even creating that heroism scenario I'd so craved. But as I walked closer to that shadow on the railing, it became apparent that I had actually found myself in a situation more intense than my rich fantasy world could make up.
For an instant, I considered that perhaps all this time I had fooled myself into believing this was something I could handle, but it was mere moments before that strange and overpowering belief I held in my greater purpose kicked back in.
As I approached, slowly and cautiously, I prayed silently to myself. Asking God, and then downright begging Him as I got closer, to let his will be done in whatever was about to go down. To let me help this shadow if I could.
I was nearly in the range where the shadow would notice me when all insanity took over my attempt at creating a strategy. I had heard too many times of people jumping before another could get close enough to grab them and there was only one way I could think to prevent that.
I'm not known for my small gestures. When I'm all in, I go all in.
I was climbing over the railing in an instant and then clinging to the thing for dear life behind me.
Like I said before, I really and truly do not actually have a death wish.
I was facing forward, my front exposed to the pitch black endless abyss before me, my hair whipping around dangerously. I couldn't help but comprehend, even if only for a split-second, that I had quite possibly never felt that kind of enthralling freedom in my life.
I shook my head to return my mind to the task at hand and when I turned it slightly, I found that the shadow, or man as I could now tell, was already staring intently at me.
He was tall, almost lanky yet well-built, with flowing black hair, and even in that dark I could somehow tell his eyes were piercing.
"Hey!" I called with a 'what's up' sort of nod.
And then instantly laughed out loud at my own lack of gracefulness in the situation, before quickly forcing my mouth back into a straight line.
The main continued to stare, practically emotionless but with a slight hint of curiosity.
"I'm just gonna, um, slide a bit closer so we can properly talk. This wind is so loud!" I yelled.
He continued to stare so I took that as confirmation he wouldn't fling himself forward in response to my movement.
I'm not going to lie. Sliding those few feet to eventually find myself resting shoulder to shoulder with the man was intensely terrifying. If you ever feel the need to discover your own mortality, I definitely recommend taking a sideways stroll along the outside of a bridge four stories above a raging river.
The man shifted over slightly so we were no longer touching, but other than that made no movement or acknowledgement.
"I truly don't know what to say," I admitted to myself, under my breath, allowing the wind to carry my words away. The man, however, quirked an eyebrow.
"I'm Violet," I finally offered.
The man actually looked slightly disgusted as he stated more than asked, "You're named after a flower."
"I'm named after a color actually," I shot back slightly offended, but then quickly softened. "What's your name?"
"Why?"
"Because," I sent him a playful wink. "If we're going to be friends then I'll need that bit of information."
He began to roll his eyes and then seemly decided it would be too much effort.
"I can assure you we will not be friends," he determined.
"Because you're going to jump?"
I figured I might as well be blunt. It wasn't as if we both weren't fully aware of what was going on.
"Perhaps," he shrugged nonchalantly.
"A man of few words I see," I stated. "That could make things difficult if you're looking for me to be your own personal suicide letter."
I thought maybe I could shock him into thinking logically.
"I have absolutely no use for you," he returned.
I huffed. "Listen up, I understand you're about to die and so social norms don't really apply here but is it really necessary to be rude?"
The man suddenly seemed slightly more interested.
"About to die," he repeated.
"Yes about to die," I felt hopeful. "And I interrupted my important night and will probably be attempting to untangle my hair for weeks because of this so the least you could do would be show some simple human courtesy."
"Human courtesy you say? Isn't that such a concept," he smirked. "You think I am planning to end my life?
"Do you see yourself?" I moved to gesture with my hand at our predicament only to nearly slip and fling my hand back onto the railing breathing heavily.
The man made no move to intervene.
He seemed to have suddenly lost interest in me and was now gazing into the darkness below us.
It didn't take a genius to figure out what that meant, so I took my insanity strategy to the highest level.
Without warning I let go of the railing with my left arm and flung my body around, grabbing the railing on the other side of the man and securing myself as best I could so that I was now clinging chest to chest with him.
Needless to say, his interest was back.
"What are you doing?" He peered down at me genuinely curious.
"I honestly haven't the slightest idea," I realized at the same time as I said it aloud. "If I had to guess, I'd say doing my dang best to save your life."
"Why?"
I stared directly up at him. "Because I'm selfish. Because I can't be the person who failed and let another extinguish his own life. Because I want to be the person who inspired a second chance."
"You would risk my jumping and taking you with me for your desire to look kindly upon yourself?"
"Selfishness is a curious and strangely powerful thing."
He tilted his head slightly at that.
"Indeed it is," he agreed.
"Are you going to jump and take me with you?" I asked bluntly. "I'd just like to know."
The fact that I could actually see him considering it for a few moments is something that I will truly never forget.
"No," he finally conquered and I felt relief flood my bones.
But then he continued.
"There are worse things than death," he smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "I shall leave you to simmer in your failure for the rest of your short existence instead."
And then his hands were under my arms and I was being easily lifted back to the other side of the railing and dumped onto the concrete.
He waited for me to regain my footing so I could stare directly into his eyes.
"I'll never forget you."
I don't know why I said it, but as soon as it came out I knew I meant it.
"Oh my dear," he was grinning now. "I think you're quite right."
And then he simply let go.