Driven
There was a hard rain driving down on Seattle Thursday evening as I trudged home at the end of the work day (and my work week). Most Seattle rain is the candy-ass drizzly variety, but this was a virile rain, one that struck the pavement hard and played a constant stacatto on the umbrella overhead. There was something wonderful about being out in it, smelling the urban stench that the rain was keeping down at ground level, and being pushed back by the roar of the traffic on the freeway below as I crossed intersecting overpasses to get to my Capitol Hill home.But this time there was something more than just the drama of a stormy urban backdrop. A feeling of some kind. I stopped and looked out over the freeway at the onrush of traffic. Suddenly, wordlessly I felt myself pulled to the railing. I grasped it firmly and started to put one foot up on the fence as if to climb over and jump.
What am I doing!?
I clenched the steel rail hard stopping myself from going further, and then pushed back.
What was that!?
I'm a rationalist. I don't believe in spirits or powers or "the force" or any of that metaphysical stuff. The urge to jump didn't come out of nowhere. But it was real.
Perhaps the bridge made me think of a more famous one, Aurora, not far away, which has become Seattle's Suicide Central. And perhaps, too, the dramatic weather made me think more deeply of my own situation. True, I have a good job, a good home, my health. But my personal life the last few months has been turned upside down as the man I loved pushed me aside for a younger, hotter man. Moreover, I had recently made the decision to end the pain and separate myself from the one I had to come to both love and hate.
I took a deep breath, turned away from the scene, and finished crossing the bridge toward home. I will be fine, I will be fine, I told myself. And I will.
As long as I can keep feelings from turning into so final an action.
posted by Bucephalus at
6:57 PM
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