Fear

Everything we are, all that we have become, could be destroyed at any moment, and we would exist only in its shards. Broken we have both been before; cracked, flawed we would remain, but I know the map of these fissures. I understand the creased and splintered nature of this terrain and for a brief instant I want to stay where I am, to savor the comfort of the known. It isn't enough, but it is something.

I want to hold you in my arms and pull you firmly to me, to show you, prove to you this path was meant to be. I want to give you not a present, but a future, as inevitable as every choice from our past.

Words are useless as reality presses against me, drawing me in, perhaps for what is only the second time in my life. Somehow, what I've imagined, what in my brain seems the right way, does not fit this space in time. Every choice leads us to where we're supposed to go and I make mine, believing even this small, insignificant choice is part of the path our feet find together.