“But it’s only when you jump,” I said, “that you know for sure whether you really want to fall, and by then there’s no returning; and there are those seconds before things go dark when you’re very much alive, when you’re simply falling and waiting for velocity and surface tension to break you.” He said nothing, so I went on. “And then, you’ll never know whether things might have become better. You’ll never know who else you might have loved.”