The Precipice. Something we all fear.
Or do we?
I saw Richard Burton's interview in 1974 with Parkinson yesterday, and he spoke of it. Being there, and knowing that he really didn't want to go on. A man so desperately in love with his ex wife, and finding the separation impossible to handle. He would not say a bad word about her. Could not, even. Such pain and tortured love.
Such a private man. So poignant, the thoughts of someone so overtly unconcerned by what anyone thought, and yet hiding, not really knowing how to express himself.
I don't know why this should have effected me so much. But it did. He spoke of the decision to not be a part of the world any more, just before he disappeared into a bottle. Several bottles. Although denying that he was trying to kill himself.
It seemed a very black place to be, and yet somewhere that rang a bell. As though I've been there, or had been there with him, holding hands and saying "shall we jump"? It's not really a conscious thought, or desire, just a question. Almost as though it is just one of a number of things you could choose at that point. Standing there, looking. Slightly scared, and yet very unconcerned.
Whilst I stand there though, I am not trying to get him to stop, attempting to comfort him and help him - it is his life and he can do what he pleases with it. As with everyone - it is their choice how they behave. What right do any of us have to influence another? Even if it is to stop someone taking their own life. It is theirs to choose, isn't it.
And how wonderful to have someone that you love that much. Or more than one love, in any number of relationships.
What age or illness does to us - surely it is our own choice when we've had enough.
Not me though, not today. I may be exploring the cliff, but it is from a distance, and there is no one on it anyway. Not today.
