Once when I was younger I went to the lake with my family.
   At one point I was on top of a cliff overlooking the water.
      I stared into the dark blue hole below me.
         I wondered how deep it would be.
            Does it end? Are there rocks? What creatures lie below?
               I considered jumping. It scared the hell out of me.
                  I am someone who really does not like the unknown.
                     But I love flying. Feeling weightless. Free.
                        Was this going to be worth it?
                           Tempting.
                              I jump.

For those few seconds I felt like a feather gliding through the air.
   Although I awaited the crash.
      The moment when I would hit the water and feel it.
         Either I would feel pain or a slow of time.
            It's funny though.
               It was as if none of that even happened.
                  I just woke up.
                     I was suddenly looking at the sky.
                        I felt numb at first.
                           Next I felt the air knocked out of my body.
                              I felt like I was suffocating.
                                 I floated to the shore.

As I began to feel okay again, I looked up at the cliff.
It doesn't look as far down as it felt in that moment.
I wonder if it was worth it.
Was the unknown worth the pain?
Was it worth the weightless feel?

                                                                                   Would I do it again?