I was fidgety and anxious for the days following that drive. I was scared to drive anywhere near there; I was worried about being by myself; I was worried that this urge to shatter myself into a million pieces would take over me when I was feeling just fine and that I wouldn't be able to stop myself.

Friday, I asked CJ to drive back up the mountain with me. We set out Saturday morning and made our way up to the same spot. I got out of the car, a little shaky, and made my way to the edge. And nothing happened—everything was fine. I brought the camera out and took pictures; I hugged CJ and laughed.

"Screw you," I told the cliff, and felt silly, and laughed some more, and drove away.