It was nighttime and the moon outlined the swells of the ocean hundreds of feet below.
As I looked down from the bridge I slid across to the passenger side of the moving car, opened the door and jumped.
For five nights I have alone driven this bridge raceway with sharp curves. For five nights I have stared down at the same dimly lit ocean and watched lifeguards and helicopters look for others who had jumped from this same bridge.
Each night the news reported they could not be found but still they searched.
On the sixth night I decided I did not want to drive this bridge yet again, or maneuver another sharp curve. I wanted to let go and not be found. So I jumped.
As I floated through the air I realized I did not want to let go, only wanted to be found.
As my body fell through the starless night and into the swells I saw helicopters turning their spotlight on me.
The lifeguards were in the water before my body hit. I woke up.
From what, I know not.
This dream has for several days in a row held a finite scene which has replayed the exact same sequence of events until last night when I changed the script. After all of my conscious work, my sub shows me the truth of my heart.
I need to remain asleep upon rescue, to wake up.