I remember my first.
You feel this deep reluctance to take the leap.
You get encouraged, co-erced and then finally pushed over the edge.
And when you're free-falling, you didn't want it to stop.
You let gravity take over.
The G force becomes your master.
As the speed increases, so does your heart rate.
The rhythmic pounding is the slave to the master.
When your brain finally catches up, you feel the uneasiness of being tugged back.
You hang and then you rebound.
The first tug is like a regurgitation, like a jolt to your senses.
During hangtime, the frames relay themselves.
You recall the last few seconds that seemed like an eternity.
Subsequent tugs adds spin to the equation, like a cockscrew unwinding inside.
You feel helplessly lost in your bearings.
Yet trying valiantly to recover the exhilaration of the moment before.
And then all is still.
But the heart continues pounding, yearning for more.
"I'm not optimistic, I'm not hopeful. I am sure. I am steady. And I know. I am a heart man. I take 'em apart. I put 'em together. I hold them in my hands. I am a heart man."
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