by Mischief

I knew what I was getting into. Ok I really didn’t ever consider the inevitable consequence of my choice, but I knew what I was doing was dangerous. I think perhaps the danger was part of the thrill, the allure. And so I walked out unto the tight rope with my eyes open and a song in my heart. He warned me that he couldn’t take me the whole way. He didn’t want to hurt me, but he knew he wasn’t strong enough and he had to look out for himself. He told me he’d fallen to his own regret and damage enough times that he would let go of me before he would risk truly falling himself. All the while looking me in the eye with a smile and a dare, he held out his hand and asked me to play anyway. He showed me the beauty, the joy, and the thrill that I had been craving and asked me to disregard the danger and grasp the gift. So I knew what I was risking. In theory I knew, even if I didn’t understand what it meant, I had still been warned. But his grip was so firm, the ride was so exciting, and the end seemed so unlikely that I took the risk anyway. I took his hand and boldly walked out onto the rope, never once doubting that I could take the ride, enjoy the thrill then dust myself off at the end and simply walk away none the worse for wear.

I don’t regret it. Not really. It was everything I was promised. Not everything I had expected or tried to conjure, but everything I was promised, and I enjoyed it. Lying here watching the sky dim and hearing the crowd murmur in shock and recrimination, I know I would do it again if I could, but some lessons only come once and some things once broken cannot be fixed. And after all, I had been warned.


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