the bridge | love story IV

Greetings, internet traveler. Have you been here before? Welcome back. If you’re new, may I gently suggest you head over here and check out parts 1-3 of the story? This will make a lot more sense, if you do.

I have a basic outline for our story. Drew and I sat down one night, took a walk down memory lane, and wrote down all the moments that stood out in our past. This next part is labeled “Drew falls off bridge. Tasha bakes brownies.”

That’s really all you need to know, but perhaps I should expound, because it’s sort of funny. You know, funny in a “Holy crap, my new boyfriend almost died” sort of way.

It was nearing the end of the school year, and we were all pretty fried. Wiped. Crazy, delusional, stressed-out-of-our-minds exhausted. Final portfolio was almost due, and while we could just taste that final victory, we weren’t quite there yet.

One sunny afternoon, a few of us thought it would be a great idea to go jump off a 40+ foot bridge. You know, for fun.

Off we went, arriving somewhere in the back woods of Greenfield. We wandered out onto the bridge (upon which was a sign that clearly stated “bridge jumping is illegal”), some of us slightly more enthusiastic than others. I’ll let you guess who the most enthusiastic member of our party was.

One by one, we all jumped. It was amazing, terrifying, exhilarating, and somehow seemed to melt the stress away.

At some point after we had all gone, I thought out loud “Hey, I should grab my camera, and film one of us jumping off.” But the car was parked at least 100 feet away, and when you’re crazy, delusional, stressed-out-of-your-mind and have just jumped off a bridge (read, exhaustion + adrenaline), that seems like much too far to walk to capture a classic moment. Like your new boyfriend almost dying.

Okay, we’re getting there.

Drew climbed up onto the ledge for a second jump and paused to consider the drop (the trick is not to consider it for too long, because at some point, your logic-brain kicks in, sees the risk, and seizes up your motor skills in an effort to prevent bodily harm).

He paused just long enough, and off he went, front flip and all. I remember looking down after him as he fell, and thinking how strange his body looked... tense and flat, like he wasn’t in control. 

Slap.  We all winced. He hit the water much harder than we had expected. Face down. Motionless.

It didn’t take long for us to figure out that something was seriously wrong. Our friend Porter moved quickly to the edge, preparing to jump in after Drew. After what seemed like a slow motion eternity, Drew moved. Jerked, like he had been roughly woken up, and began swimming to shore.

Moral of this story? Exhaustion and front flips don’t mix. Drew had passed out in midair just after the jump, hit the water unconscious, and woken up just in time to keep any water from going into his lungs.

Just like that. He was completely fine, like he always is after ridiculous, scary things happen to him. This man is unflappable.

So, I baked him consolation brownies and we all had a barbeque.


Now, for your multi-media viewing pleasure, a video excerpt from the next  time Drew jumped off the same bridge. Yes, we went back and did it again. What can I say? It was fun.