Fragile Edges: A Life Lived Raw, Reckoned, and Reclaimed
Life. It's the ultimate wild card, isn't it? One minute you're staring down the barrel of eternity, the next you're dodging bullets in some godforsaken corner of the world, heart pounding like a war drum. Who’s really in control? The universe with its cruel jokes? Fate, that sly bastard? Or us – stubborn, scarred souls clawing for the wheel? I've spent this week wrestling those questions, gut-punched by the fragility of it all. A close one almost gone in a bad night of poor decisions.
Shock waves still rippling. And yet, here I am, typing this out because if there's one truth I've carved into my bones, it's this: We make the most of our situations by showing up, raw and real. By loving harder, being present like our next breath depends on it (because it does), and becoming the goddamn change we ache to see in the world.
Fuck, this week. It hit like a freight train in the dead of night. I've danced with depression more times than I can count – those black-hole days where the void whispers sweet nothings about ending it all. I've stared into that abyss, felt its cold fingers on my throat. But here's the line I won't cross: I've never pulled the trigger. Not once. Call it stubbornness, survival instinct, or some cosmic middle finger to despair – I'm still here, breathing fire. Still in shock from what happened. Someone so close, almost ripped away like a page from a half-written story. Then again, my friends and family? They've buried me in their minds at least twice this past year alone. False alarms, near-misses that left them reeling. Me? I just dusted off and kept walking.
That's the rhythm of my life – adventurous, unapologetic, edged with danger. I've flung myself into the deep end: war-torn streets in countries that don't make the evening news, high-stakes gambles where the house always wins if you're not sharp. Thrill-seeking isn't a hobby; it's my oxygen. Pushing boundaries? It's been my love language since I could walk. Have I gone too far? Hell yes. Stories I won't print here, scars that map my regrets like constellations. Will I dial it back moving forward? Maybe I'll lace up the caution tape a bit tighter. Or maybe not. The edge is where the magic lives – that electric hum between alive and too alive.
But let's be real: Maybe I'm done flirting with the abyss. Maybe the thrill's lost its shine under these fresh wounds. I've done a lifetime's worth already. Loved fiercely, lost harder. Lived wide open, terms non-negotiable. Pushed every limit, shattered a few. Done things I'm not proud of – shadows that linger in quiet hours. Yet for every bruise, there's a badge: I chose this life. It would've been easy to play it safe, to heed the chorus of "Settle down, Gordon" from the well-meaning masses. Clock in, clock out, build the picket fence. Easy to fold when the cards turned sour, to hand over the reins and let someone else steer.
I could've sold out a thousand times. Given up on the kid who dreamed too big, who questioned too loud. But nah. That's not me. I've always been the free thinker in the room – the one who zigzags when the world demands a straight line. Taking responsibility? That's my north star. Own the wins, own the wreckage. Could I have scripted an easier path? Absolutely. Cushy job, steady pulse, no ghosts in the rearview. But easy ain't etched in my DNA. If a deal started smelling like compromise, I'd bolt faster than a thief in the night. My morals? They're my compass – quirky, unyielding, forged in fire. Grateful doesn't cover it. They let me spot the fakes from a mile out, turn down fat stacks when they tasted like ash, double down on gut hunches that paid off in ways money never could.
I know when to admit I'm wrong – swallow pride like bad whiskey. I sense the shift when life's veering off-course, that itch under the skin screaming pivot. And oh, the joys in that chaos! We move fast, we pivot faster. We go all in – on ourselves, on the ones who light our dark. That's the game: Infinite loops of risk and reward, love and loss. Into infinity and beyond. Boom, baby. Boom.
So where does that leave us? You, me, all of us teetering on our own edges? Control's an illusion, sure – life's too slippery for that. But presence? That's power. Love more by showing up messy, by holding space for the fragile beats. Make the most of it by leaning in, not out. Be the change? Start with the mirror. Push your boundaries, but tether them to truth. Live on your terms, even when they scare you shitless.
Because in the end, fragility isn't a flaw – it's the spark. It's what makes every sunrise a heist, every connection a revolution.
If this week's reminded me of anything, it's that we're all one heartbeat from the unknown. So let's honor it: Laugh louder. Hug tighter. Chase the wild with eyes wide open. And when the shadows creep in? Remember – you've got the fire to burn them back.
What's your edge look like? Drop a line below. Let's swap stories, stoke the flames.
Connect... Gordon GordonBufton@Proton.me @GordonBufton