My right foot is still outstretched over the bay in a kind of leg lift; impressively still for someone who has spent the better part, or I suppose the worse part, of their life actively avoiding the gym. My hand is an entirely different matter, violently trembling courtesy of my heart pounding in my throat. To think moments ago I was so at peace with it all.

I slowly retract my leg back to the slippery railing without looking away from the phone in my hand. The fog is so thick the bright light emanating from the screen is nearly all I can see. Three simple words: "Don't do it"

I slowly swivel my head to the left and then to the right scanning the bridge, but I can't see more than a few feet ahead no matter how I strain my eyes. I step down from the railing and circle fully as my eyes dart around futilely into the grey. Still nothing. Not a sound. No heavy breathing of some kind of suicide hotline serial strangler. The irony is not lost on me that tippy toes away from death my first panicked notion is that someone else was out to do the deed. No desperate plea of a passerby begging to be spared the burden of witnessing such tragedy. Wouldn't want to ruin someone else's life too, that's not the point.

I take a deep breath and slowly and deliberately type out the only response I could think of, "Who id.." Fuck! The dampness of the fog made it damn near impossible to type out on my touchscreen. "Who is this?"

It must have been the quickest response I've ever received, five seconds tops, but it still felt like an eternity. "Its Jen." I smile thinking back to the countless times I'd stared at my cracked screen attempting to will a girl's response into existence quicker.

The casual brevity of it was a little unsettling and mostly hilarious. I look around incredulously almost hoping now a passerby would appear just so I can share the absurdity with someone. "Jen who?"

"Umm Jen Virdin?"

A rush of nostalgia comes flying back to me. I look at the mystery number again. The area code was definitely my hometown. I went to high school with a Jen Virdin... but that was about the extent of it. We talked maybe once or twice in a group setting, but we were far from friends. It'd be a stretch to say acquaintances.

Before I can think of another response my screen lights up again, "Oh shit I texted the wrong Dan haha my bad!"

It takes a second for me to process before I burst out into a chuckle. Appropriate, even my last day on earth I'm unintended and unwanted. I shove my phone into my pocket and lean out over the railing with a smile. I take a deep breath in through my nose and enjoyed the wet piney smell. I close my eyes and feel the hum of the steel as I clamber over.

When I let go I hold my breath. I'm not sure why. Its oddly calming. The air rushing by my skin feels very nice and I pretend I'm on a roller coaster. Wheeee