I have a friend who I used to always have a nagging concern about. it always felt like he was living close to the edge, and if things went wayward, he may just fall off the cliff of life, with no rescue possible.
Till one drunken heart-to-heart conversation a few months later, when I realized that he wasn't near the edge at all.
And that I am the one living precariously. Not physically as much as mentally. Because I'm still not completely sure of the reason why I should live.