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The impact wouldn't kill me.
It wasn't like jumping off a bridge, the top of an office building, or into a canyon. The mountain didn't jut out into the air like that. It was a steep drop from where I stood past the wooden railing, but when I hit the side of the mountain, I was more likely to break something and keep rolling down, smashing into rocks and trees along the way.
The best strategy was to dive head first and split my head open on the stone. If it didn't kill me outright, it would probably knock me out and make the rest of the trip more pleasant. If it didn't do that either, at least it would be a nice step along the way of dying.
I took a deep breath. The chill of the air made me shiver. I had left my jacket and backpack behind the railing. There was no need to make the process of recovering my body harder than it had to be. A light gust of wind hit me in the face, blowing back my hair. Goosebumps rose on my skin.
The sun was setting to my right. It cast the sea of mountains — dappled red, yellow, and brown with the late fall leaves — before me in a warm, orange glow. Pinks and reds were streaked across the sky. It was a photographer's dream, but there was none here today. The park was empty. It was Halloween, after all.
I swallowed and looked down again. There were better ways to kill myself, I'd read up on them, but this felt right. I knew that my body wasn't going to be given back to nature like I wanted. They couldn't just leave a rotting corpse in a state park, even if my note explicitly asked for it. Nor could anyone stop my parents from dressing me up in a suit and calling me my deadname when my corpse was given to them, even though that was in the note too.
As always, I was helpless. All the things I wanted were out of reach. They always would be. I could stand on the tips of my toes, and reach as far as I could, but my fingers would never even brush them.
In all the ways that mattered, I'd failed. Failed at being a man. Failed at being a woman. Failed at graduating high school. Failed at getting a job that paid more than minimum wage. Failed at finding love. Failed at being happy.
I half expected to fail at killing myself too, but I suspected that most suicide attempts failed because the person doing it didn't really mean business. If you wanted to kill yourself, you could. Human bodies were so fragile. It was a shame that I was going to be a part of that lovely 40% percent that transphobes threw around, but what could I do? I'd played the game as much as I was willing to. At least by doing this, I was making a choice that mattered.
Someone sneezed. I whipped my head around. An old woman, bundled in a thick cream coat, had somehow sneaked up behind me and joined me at the overlook. Her hair was gray and white. She had a strong, sharp jaw and bright blue eyes that reflected the sunset. Her shoulders were drawn. She looked…sad wasn't the word. It was something deeper than that. Something that touched the heart.
She caught my eyes and smiled. It was as sad as the rest of her. I adjusted my grip on the railing. What was she doing? Was she going to try and stop me? Had she already called the police? Fuck, I couldn't get institutionalized again. I just couldn't.
"I told myself, all my friends, anyone who would listen really, that I would propose to my wife on a day like this," the woman mused. I wasn't sure if she was talking to me or herself. "I said I'd find a mountain and get down on my knee and give her a ring while the wind blew our hair and the leaves fell around us. Then I'd stand up and hug her from behind as we admired the view until the sun set and we had to hike home in the dark."
She laughed. To my surprise, there was joy in it. "I thought about what it might be like if we got arrested for it. If we ended up in jail together and had to pay a fine for breaking the park rules. Oh, if it actually happened, it would've been horrible, they don't treat folks like me well in prison, but it was fun to think about. Fun to pretend that it would've all gone perfectly."
She put her hands on the railing and shut her eyes. The wind blew again and combed through her hair like a lover's fingers.
"I was only going to get married once. My wife and I would be together through thick and thin. We'd show all the straight people that our love was just as good, was better than theirs. When we retired, we'd buy a house in the mountain with a view and adopt a cat and a dog and have a little garden where we grew food and flowers.
She went silent. My fingers were starting to go numb. The sun was dipping lower and lower by the second. The high that I'd been riding on, the one that led me to climb over the fence and stand on the edge, was setting with it.
"It was going to be so beautiful. I don't think there was a week that went by where I didn't think about it once. I practiced all the things I'd say, the jokes I'd tell, the pictures I'd take when I finally proposed." She shook her head. "Oh, It was going to be perfect."
"What happened to it?" I asked, surprised at the sound of my voice. I didn't know why I cared at all about this woman. Her story shouldn't matter. But now I wanted to hear how it ended before I let go of the railing.
"I don't know. Life I suppose. I wish I had an answer to that more than you'll ever know," she said. "I tried so hard. I met so many wonderful people. Oh, and I fell in love too. A few times. And every woman I fell in love with was beautiful from the inside out. I would still die for any of them if they asked, I love them all to this day. I never got over a single one of them." She clicked her tongue. "Time blunts those wounds, but it doesn't heal them. They always scar."
"Oh."
"I don't blame them though. Not in the slightest. You can't make yourself love someone. They broke my heart, but they couldn't help it." Tears ran down her face. She didn't wipe hem away. "Just like I couldn't help loving them."
She turned to look at me again. It made me jump. My right foot slipped. I almost fell down the mountain before I caught myself on the railing, squeezing so hard my knuckles turned white.
"All through my life, since I was a child, I thought about doing what you're planning on doing now. But I always told myself that before I died, I wanted to be a woman and I wanted to get married." She laughed again. It wasn't bitter. I didn't understand why. "I managed to do one of those things, no matter how much it cost me, but I never quite managed the second."
"You're not going to stop me?" I asked.
"No, I won't. I don't think you should, but I won't stop you."
"Why?" I asked. My eyes prickled. There was a knot in my throat.
"Because I'm an old fool and thinks your life should be yours to do what you want with and because you should get married before you die, don't you think?" she said. "It seems like you've managed to become a woman, and at a much younger age than I ever did! I'd say you're doing better than me already."
I choked on my laugh. I wanted to reach into my chest and tear out all the emotions ripping me apart inside. I just wanted to die. But my fucking hands wouldn't let go of the railing.
My anger flashed. "You're never getting married. You're going to die alone," I spat out.
She sighed. "I might. But I might get married still. I've got a few years left in me."
"You won't."
"Why not? I've fallen in love 5 times already, what's one more? I may as well try." She brushed a strand of hair from her face. "I don't want to die until I manage it."
"You don't get a choice of when you die or you get married. You just…you don't."
"Well, I want to try anyway." She looked back over the mountains. The sun was almost gone now. Her face was cast in deep shadow. I could no longer see where my body would smash against the mountains. "It's why I'm up here. To remind myself that I was going to propose to my wife here."
"You said going to," I said. "You— you made it sound like you'd given up."
"Well, I've certainly given up parts of it. I'm long since retired now and I'm a bit old to be getting arrested. But I'd still like to propose."
"Why not just…stop?"
"Because I want to get married before I die."
I hung my head. Tears dripped from my eyes and kept falling as the sun finally vanished behind the mountains. A hand landed on my shoulder.
"You have a good night, dear," the woman said.
Her footsteps faded into the evening. The wind blew again. I squeezed my eyes shut and gathered all my strength. I let go of the fence with one hand and leaned forward.
My other hand wouldn't let go.
I hung like that for a minute, before I gave up, swung myself back over the fence, and collapsed against it, curling into a tight, useless ball. It was pointless. I wasn't going to get married. I wasn't going to find love. I wasn't going to amount to anything. The most I could hope to be was an old woman, walking to the top of a mountain to lament that I was alone.
I wasn't going to be anything.
I may as well try, the woman's voice echoed.
Mechanically, I stood and gathered my things, slipping my jacket over numb skin. Step by step, I walked away from the overlook in the mountain. The sun would rise tomorrow. I could always make another attempt.
I may as well try.