I can count all the times I've ever cried

Today was my last day of work. The shift was quite interesting; I was besieged by this intense and unfaltering calmness. At a place that calls for high adrenaline and constant alertness, I was unalterably still deep inside. When the clock hit 2, and it was time to go, I wanted to say good-bye to everyone. There are so many goodbyes to give. So many to receive. Everyone was busy, but I waved and I smiled. I hugged a few. And I walked out. But suddenly, something happened that I was not at all expecting. A deep, heavy tugging feeling started to yank me. I got to my car, and I sat down and this uncomfortable, unfamiliar burning sensation started in the corners of my eyes. I pulled my car out of its parking spot and began to drive away, fighting the breaking floodgates that were threatening to crash forth.

After pulling up outside, I walked into my house, still relatively holding my composure despite the tearing I felt inside. And then it came. These hot, salty tears that I've only encountered a few times in my short life. And I let it happen. The faces of everyone I'd just left behind swam in my mind, the comfort of my routine now to be left in the dust, and the next chapter of my life to unfold with enormous opportunity.

I'm here. I find myself sitting on the edge of a cliff, preparing to jump. I look forward and see sun on the horizon, the waves glistening in allure and excitement. Alacrity and eagerness pump through my veins with each thumping heart beat. Behind me, everyone person I've ever loved, every experience I've ever learned from, every energy I've ever interacted with, all stand smiling, giving me the strength and the willingness to jump. My stomach flutters with those butterflies that indicate something's happening that should be. I look back and give one final wave and smile.

I'm ready now.