Freefall
"A study of a soul in a state of 'infinite descent.' It depicts a stark, textured figure suspended in a dark, star-speckled expanse a body that has broken into a million white fragments but remains held together by the gravity of its own existence. It illustrates the moment where the fear of falling is replaced by the peace of drifting, suggesting that whether we are dropped by a hardcore heartbreak or lifted by a true love, the sensation is the same: a total, breathless surrender to the universe."
I’ve finally stopped trying to stand tall. I realized that "standing tall" maintaining that rigid male ego, that Need to be in control is just a way of staying anchored to a ground that no longer exists for me. So, I let go. I am in a freefall now, and for the first time, "falling" doesn't mean a downfall. It means surrender.
It’s funny how 'true love' and 'hardcore sorrow' feel exactly the same when you're in the middle of them. They both make you feel like you’re plummeting at terminal velocity. When she calls me in that cute voice, I’m falling. When the silence of her absence hits me, I’m falling. This sketch is my admission that I am no longer in control of the descent.
I didn't draw a normal sky for this. I chose the cosmos because love at this level isn't predictable. It’s a vast, beautiful vacuum where the laws of physics don't apply. Here, time is a hallucination. It’s relative, entirely relative to her.
When I’m with her, or even just hearing her voice, time moves with the speed of a comet, gone in a blink. But the moment I’m far away, the universe stretches. Seconds turn into eons; the clock moves slower than anything I’ve ever seen. In this cosmic fall, she is my gravity. She is the reason the fragments of "me" stay in the same orbit even as I break apart.
I am no longer a creature of the earth. I am a traveler in the depth of a feeling that can’t be explained, only felt. I am fragmented, I am falling, and I am finally, infinitely, in love.