Like a kid on the high dive....

I seem to be stuck. My legs don't want to get me any closer to the edge, for fear of having the ground give way under them.
I had all the intentions of jumping, as I climbed the ladder...
But once I got here, my stomach had left me, and it waved at me from the ground, as if to ask me, "What are you doing all the way up there?".

But, unlike the public pool, there is no one to toss me in. I'm left here, alone. In a constant battle of my will, one side of me, quite similar to me 10 years ago...has the confidence and courage to jump, the other part is more comfortable with where I am... but knows something needs to give.Meaning, I know it is not for me to stay on the high dive. I must come down, either by retreat, or by taking the leap.
I know the way I prefer.

One thing is very similar to the pool.
ALL eyes are on me.
They brand me, make me twitch and cringe under their weight.
The water is suddenly quite inviting, if only to soothe the burning.

The odds of humiliation in retreat seem high, suddenly.
The thought of accomplishment is overpowering, and just as suddenly, the leap is made simple.

I sure hope I land straight, or this could hurt...