Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuuuu-

What did I agree to?

So, this guy I really like, and I’ve been talking to him for a while. Ben, his name is- finally asked me out on a date.

He’s funny and smart, and has got one hell of a body. Totally my type. So I was ecstatic when he asked.

Of course I agreed, not even reading his full message. He had a tendency to write long paragraphs to me over explaining stuff, so I’ve gotten into the habit of just skimming through.

I did see one word, though. ‘Abseiling.’ I didn’t know what it meant, and I just thought he was doing that thing where he uses big words for no reason. (He’s a writer, so- force of habit, he tells me.) I didn’t look it up.

…I should’ve looked it up.

Goddamnit, I should’ve knew something was up when he told me to wear something I can move in.

He told me to meet him at the top of a building. Romantic, right? I didn’t think much of it, but I noticed a familiar creeping dread as I ascended in the elevator.

He greeted me at the top, wearing a goofy grin and what looked to be… climbing gear? And a helmet?

I laughed, and made a crude joke about me not being that rough, but he just looked at me confused.

…then he explained what we’re doing.

I didn’t think to object for some reason, I guess I was just too… stunned to say anything. He helps me strap in with the gear he brought for me, bonked my helmet, and proceeded to… jump off the building.

Well, jump is a exaggeration. He more… shimmied.

But he went down nonetheless.

And I got to the edge, and looked down, seeing him dangling there by a rope, feet pressed against the side of the building, his hands beckoning for me to join him.

He was still grinning, telling me not to worry, that he’s a professional.

I felt sick.

And then I jumped.

My stomach drops further than I did, the rope catching me. I dangle there, the only thing keeping me from dropping god knows how many feet down is a rope.

I feel dizzy, my heart pounds in my chest.

I scramble, grabbing the rope, and making myself be upright.

“Not bad,” Ben grins. “Most people don’t make it this far.”

I manage a shaky smile in his direction, and he starts teaching me how to go down, demonstrating.

I’m trying not to show that I’m scared, but man is it hard. I feel nauseous, but follow like he did, lowering myself.

Okay, I tell myself. This is okay. I’m fine, just don’t look down.

I hesitantly glance down.

OH SHIT WE ARE REALLY HIGH UP WHY AM I DOING THIS AM I STUPID?

Ben is talking casually like nothing is happening, and we’re not dangling off a building.

“So,” he starts, tilting his head. “Dinner after this?”

“I- uh,” I stammer, trying not to think. “I’m actually feeling a bit… nauseous.”

He immediately is concerned. “Really? If your not feeling well, I can get you back up on the roof-“

“No, no! It’s fine!” I insist. “It’s just…”

I stare at the side of the building for a moment, trying to come up with words.

“…I have a fear of hights.” I mumble finally.

“Oh shit.” He says simply.

“But!” I exclaim before he can say anything else. “Maybe… this’ll be a way to conqueror my fear?”

He stares at me, before a small smile appears on his face. “Just let me know if we need to get on solid ground.”

I nod, and he takes my hand wordlessly as we start going down.

He resumes talking, and I notice… that it’s actually helping. His hand is big and warm, and… solid.

We continue inching down the building, just making conversation.

We’re on the ground before I know it. My feet hit the concrete sidewalk, and I just stand there, blinking at the ground.

“Hey?” He pokes my face. “You okay?”

“That… wasn’t so bad.” I admit slowly, startling myself with this realization.

“Great! Maybe we can go again to-“

“Hell no.”