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Holding On

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I felt his hand slip away, just as a hard lump formed in my throat. He turned, his brown eyes quivering with an indescribable fear. I felt a small, stinging tremor hurtle through my spine, twisting like a tightening ribbon. Suddenly I was incredibly numb. What was I doing? Leaving him is like leaving my soul behind me, a constant shadow, a painful reminder of him. Of me.

“Do you have to go...why?,” he asked, his forehead creasing with immediate and startled confusion. His stance displayed his earnest worry. My words seemed to freeze on my tongue, stilled for what seemed like forever. His patience startled me, his unwavering gaze focused hard on mine. How could he be so strong, when I am so inexplicably weak?

If only he knew, on some level understood what was crushing me into the ground like a smothering boulder. I was moving on, but he had to stay behind. It was that simple, but just so difficult.

I loved him, likely more than anyone else. Not as a lover or even a boyfriend, but as a best friend. Nothing more, and yet letting go was like abandoning a part of myself.

“Have I done something wrong?” These words crushed my heart. Done something wrong? How could he have? It was me. He had to remain here, because this was where he belonged. But I-belonged somewhere else. As much as I wanted to be there for him I could not.

I had watched him grow, piece by piece, milestone after another. But there was something that could never possibly change. His disorder.

The strange thing is that it’s what makes him so special, his heart glow so bright that it’s like a candle in the night. His heart beats the same as the one plummeting against my rib cage, and his dreams match mine entirely. And still, he is not seen for who he really is. Sometimes it’s as if I can only see him, the soul bravely shining within. Right now his invisible wings were outstretched, his presence swirling in the air like a brilliant breeze.

He is so beautiful, and I feel as though I shall buckle at the knees, seeing the pain inflicting on his angel, innocent face.

“Stay. Don’t go. I need you.” Fresh tears, like ice buckets of water splashed down my pale porcelain face. My fingers trembled in the air, the frightening distance between us. No, I must not leave him. I will some day, but not yet. There is little time, but enough. I will embrace it, every last moment, and someday there will be someone else to resume my position, to help guide him... Someone who will understand him, see him for who he is not what he is labeled as. I can only hope. But for now, it shall be me.

With renewed strength, my hand sought his, his fingers curling with mine. On some strange, unexplainable level, there seemed to be some understanding burning in his eyes.

“Someday,” he whispered.

“Yes, but not yet.” And that much was true.





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Dingo3 said...
Jan. 6, 2010 at 1:38 am
I love it. It shows acceptance, patience, and respect, all at the same time. Very wise, and I love how more than one person can relate to it.
 
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