Bridges & Marriages

I saw the bridge. I saw the man get ready to jump, and then I saw him plummet two hundred and sixteen meters towards the ground; why, why would you do that? It’s all I could say as the rope pulled him back up. He dangled at least fifty meters below the bridge and hung there upside down and waited to be pulled back towards the ledge.

The bungee jump is potential suicide but I had some strange inner madness that wanted to do it but I needed encouragement.

There was a man standing behind me also watching the people jump. He looked to be in his early forties. I turned to him.

Me - You going to do it?

Man – Yes, I’ve come across the world to do it.

Me – oh’, you’ve come across the world for this kind of death sport, why?

Man – I’m going through a divorce.

After he said that he walked off towards the bridge. I already imagined him at the ledge, looking down towards the rocks in the green river below. I imagined how much of the world he’d put into his lungs before stepping over the edge and free falling over a hundred miles an hour, completely alone, completely alone.