Bleeding

I am standing in a bridge. A dangerous bridge. I am seeing you with her. Talking each other. Laughing together. Sharing about your stories with her. You are asking about her activities. About her life. I am freezing. I am crying. I am bleeding. I am dying. There are only two choices. 1. Coming to you. 2. Or jumping to the river under the bridge. A river with a thousand rocks. Sharp rocks. But, at the end. Both of those choices send me to the broken heart. Deep sadness. Death. None is better. But i have to choose. And i decide to come to you. I decide to keep holding you. No matter how hurt it is. I am here to keep being with you. It's ok, baby. I am fine. Then we are fine. Let's continue our journey.
March.