As I stand on the precipice I can’t help but feel the surreal nature that is upon my heart and soul.  What force of nature would do such a thing as to shield my feelings and blind my eyes from what tragedy could be bestowed upon my very being? My calmness betrays what true feelings should be running though my veins.  My smile is a mask of fear that should be permeating my very soul to its depths. What of this calmness? What of this surreal nature that is stealing from me the expectation of pain, that is holding in its immense grasp the strings of my heart? For what purpose am I held back from the edge? For what purpose am I blinded from seeing what truly resides at the bottom?