Love and Skydiving - A Well-known Metaphor

Have you ever sky-dived? 

The scariest part of sky-diving is the part where you’re sitting on the edge of the plane, and you’ve just watched the people before you jump out and become tiny black dots in a matter of seconds.

You’re sitting on the edge, wondering why you ever thought it would be a good idea to fly 13000 feet up in the air in a tiny airplane, strap yourself to a stranger and jump out of the plane.

But once you’re there, sitting on the edge, you don’t have a choice. The guy you’re attached to has all the power and when he pushes you out of the plane, the only thing you can do is try to remember to breathe.

The first few seconds are absolutely terrifying. There is no up or down. There is no center of the world. There is only cold air and complete confusion.

The guy you’re attached to knows what he’s doing though. So even though it feels like an eternity, you are very quickly horizontal in the air, arms and legs bent in the correct position.

You are now rushing toward the ground faster than you could ever have thought possible.

Once you’re falling like this you can’t scream. The air is rushing toward you in far too great a speed, forcing into your lungs. So you grit your teeth and do your best to just breathe. The air burns cold as you breathe in through your nose. You remember you were supposed to look up and once you do that, the fall doesn’t seem quite as scary. Keeping your eyes on the horizon you see the mountains. The pretty, pretty sights. And if it wasn’t for the difficulty of breathing and the rushing sound of air you might be able to forget that you’re hurling towards the earth in 60 miles an hour.

You actually fall for such a long time that it starts to feel a little bit comfortable. It’s still a chaotic sensation of wind and coldness, but the view is pretty and the feeling is exhilarating.

Then the guy on your back signals that it’s time to pull the chute.

You might have thought that the best part of a sky-dive is the falling. But falling is overrated.

When the chute opens and you go from 60 miles an hour to 10 miles an hour it feels like time stops and you’re just stuck in the middle of heaven, floating.

Serenity.

That is the word that best describes this feeling.

The rushing sound of the wind stops and you suddenly realize how peaceful the earth really is. You look down, and everything is still tiny below you.

Insignificant.

And still so very important.

But this post isn’t just about sky-diving. It’s also about love.

Whenever I kiss a guy I really, really like, I get this feeling that I’m falling without a parachute. It’s the most exhilarating, fantastic, and scary experience. And you’re so lost in falling that you forget that you’re even supposed to be wearing a parachute.

I’ve come to not particularly like these kisses. Because when you fall without a parachute it’s going to end bloody.

Last weekend I kissed an old friend. We have always balanced that fine line, but timing has never worked out before now. And it’s not true love – we’re both too jaded right now for that. And we each deal with issues that make us unfit for each other. But I trust this guy more than any other. I’ve told him my deepest darkest secrets. And he hasn’t rejected me. He’s been there. And we’re not super tight like that. We don’t hang out that often. But for the last ten years he’s been the guy I knew would always be on my side. He’s been my friend. And I’ve been his friend.

Anyway. We kissed. And it just felt so natural. So comfortable and effortless. As I left his place and took the bus home I felt safe and completely happy with myself and my actions. Because I knew I trusted him. I knew I liked him. But I also knew that I didn’t have to be afraid of us ever becoming a couple. Of us building a future together. Of me sacrificing my dreams for his happiness (the story of most of my relationships). It just felt right.

It felt like he was my parachute.

And I know I’ll land soft on the ground sometime in the future. Everything has to end after all. But right now I’m just enjoying floating in the air.

Because after all falling is overrated.