It was the fall that surprised me the most.

I knew how it was supposed to feel. I'd been through it before. Gravity would pull me into the clutches of the wind as I silently watched you ascend the sky of my esteem, shining bright. I let everything rush by me. I knew that, though I was drawing warmth from you, you would be just as the sun, emitting light without focusing on me.

I'd been through it before. I thought I was supposed to cross my arms and let my head hang back as it consumed me.

But it didn't. This time, it was different. You weren't the sun. You weren't this untouchable being. You were with me, and I could see you. Your light wasn't blinding me. And it hurt so much more because I could reach out and touch you, and I could be hurt by the uncertainty of whether or not you would reach back.

But then... You were next to me. And falling with me. And I reached out and our hands met and you held on.

I waited for the rocks at the bottom of the fall, for the eventual, inevitable crash that would leave me dashed, as always.

But it never came. You were there.

And then I was gone.