Levi
Seventeen
Time stands still in the moment before she jumps, and I think she’s going to chicken out. I wouldn’t blame her.
Even now, despite having done it countless times before, I still get a nervous flip in my stomach the second my feet leave the ground.
Oakley takes a running start and jumps, leaping with abandon into the open air. Her blonde hair fans out behind her, and I watch her fly through the sky, but it’s not her body that holds my rapt attention.
It’s the blissful look on her face as she falls.
It’s like she’s left whatever’s haunting her up there on that cliff, sprinting from it and jumping—maybe for the first time—without fear, and relishing the fall as she soars through the air.
I’ve never been in love, but I imagine it must feel something like this.
A bone-chilling terror balanced by a potent dose of straight adrenaline. And though she's the one jumping, it feels like I’m the one falling.
When she finally emerges, breaking through the surface of the water, it’s like witnessing a rebirth.
It’s the closest thing to a religious experience I've ever had, and I will gladly worship at her altar.
I’ve seen the light, and she is magnificent.