We do not fall like stones out of the sky. We happily fall with grace like leaves out of a tree. We blissfully dance around in the wind, gliding our way to the ground.
And once we finally reach the Earth having forgot it was our destination, we become one amongst so many dead leaves.
Was our purpose to fall all along? Or was it just the mean to a useless end after growing on a tree?
And amongst the sea of death, surrounded by so many having the same sense of loss as we do, we have never felt so alone; incapable of reaching out, as without the perspective of a new fall, we lost any perspective of happiness. We are left praying for a new breeze that could – for even an instant – bring back the high of the fall. The second time around, it is but a mockery of the original dance and yet we long for it; refusing or unable to find happiness anywhere else.
We are addicted to butterflies in our stomachs, to beginnings and the rush of the doubt. We long for the excitement of getting to know another being, feeling the electricity of building a connection; slightly scared it might go awry but secretly loving the rush of adrenaline. After the Fall, when time comes to settle we wonder why it did not elevate us like we thought love would, like we thought it should. And we forget we are ignorant beings merely here to learn, ironically proving we indeed know nothing.
Can we survive in a relationship when winter comes? Once the blissful rain has gone, can we remember the feeling of autumn that was the fall of our life?
Can we look around amongst the colorful sea of leaves and finally learn what it means to be on Earth? Can we finally decide to leave the sense of loss behind and enjoy the opportunity that is given to us to learn a new way towards happiness? Or will we just choose a precocious end to a conscious life, waiting for time to slowly watch us crumble and wither where we stand?