Number I - Evan

I’m half way down the building when I realised I shouldn’t have jumped. Too late to go back and do things for the better now, I’m screwed and have to accept my oncoming fate.
Why the hell did I jump anyway? What earthly reason did I have for leaping off the top of a building of intimidating height only to become a splattered mess of blood, bone, guts, muscle, nerves, internal organs and more blood in a few seconds time?
I guess the good thing about committing unreversable suicide is that you get to take stock of your life, tick off the good, mark down the bad and arrange your earthly dealings.
Did I owe some very nasty people a vast amount of money, that the only escape was to commit the most grievous of sins and take my own life in one of the most messiest ways imaginable? No, that’s not it, I’m not loaded, but I don’t own anyone anything, I’m pretty responsible when it comes to crap like that.
Yes that’s right, the guy leaping to his death is responsible. I am not a hypocrite, shut up.
Did I have some incurable disease, some infection that saps my very energy away and will some day soon make me into a shell of my former glory. An illness that will ravage my body from the inside out, make my guts spew with pus, make my brain wither and die one cell at a time, dim my eyes and take my hearing away from me so that I can no longer appreciate the vast beauty around me? Nope, I’m in very good health… well, for the next few seconds anyway, I have no complaints to speak of, no high blood pressure, no joint pain, no heart palpitations, no warts, moles or tumours that I know of, hell I run every morning (most days) and I eat healthy (most of the time), I don’t smoke (well, not since I was 16 anyway) and I don’t take any drugs (I don’t care what anyone says, Pot does not count as a drug, well not as bad as one as say cocaine, or heroin), so I know I’m not dying. Oh wait… heh, funny.
So why the leap of faith, minus the faith?
…
…
Oh yeah, I remember the reason for me jumping, jumping from atop a building of such phallic majesty, really comes down to one person screwing me over, one person really messing with my head, one person getting inside me, finding out what makes me tick and then jamming the clockwork with a brick so that the entire network of cog’s, gears, springs and everything else explodes into an abyss of disrepair.
The bitch of my life, the love from hell, my lover, my friend, my confidante and my teacher in the ways of the world. She’s the reason why I did the death-splat back flip… I’d hate her if I didn’t love her so much.
To explain why she made me give up my life of joy and happiness for one of pain and, well, death, would be an epic tale, one that I should have written down, but maybe can remember the intricate delicacies of this tortured relationship before it’s too late… how much time before I meet my maker? Oh, not long at al-