There's nothing between you and that ledge.
I'm telling you now, there's not.
It's seven more inches of empty space filled with despair and anguish.
But there is something else that I will tell you.
After that ledge, there's a drop.
Yards upon yards of regret leading into an empty blackhole, for that is what you will become.
A blackhole in someone's memories, you will become a raging storm, swallowing their memories of you up and leaving nothing but the empty space of regret, regret, regret.
So no, there is nothing between you and the legde, but perhaps someone else's future lays over the edge.
