Yet.

I stand at the edge of a balcony, that overlooks the city. The building has to be at least 32-storeys high. I'm not sure, I always fail to pay attention to the little details that are seemingly important.

Reminds me of the time I didn't know you threw up.

I look down. I see the cars speeding on the highway. It's a Saturday night, it's no surprise that everyone's out - racing to get to the best spots in town. I'd join them, but it wasn't the right time.

I feel the wind blowing through my hair. It tickles and I shiver from the tingle it sends down my spine.

I look up and beyond the cars and see the city at its prettiest. The lights that illuminate the hardness of its body gives it a new life. At this time of day, it towers beautifully - watching over the happy, the sad, the lonely.

I still feel the wind in my hair, and I still shiver from the tingles. I think of the life that I have lived and questioned if it was good, if it was worth it, if it was enough.

As hard as I try, I am too tired to answer my questions. To answer my thoughts. I try to recall the happy moments that kept me overflowing with laughter, and the sorrow that kept me overflowing with tears.

But all I could think of is

to

jump

.