Something Sappy

[bettertolive]

The first time I held you, it was with my eyes. How did it all happen so quickly? I sensed, rather than knew, that there was something more with you than the friendship I had had with others. Perhaps it was how shy you were. Or the way that you were never in a hurry to be rid of me. We had rituals then, created by that need for shared ground where none yet had come about. Instinct more than thought led my actions, my body knew what to do even though I was afraid that I had completely misjudged the situation. Your reaction was enough to tell me that my instinct had judged it correctly, but that my reason needed to do a little reigning in. But it wasn't long before I held you with hands, arms, legs, and lips. I remember you running to me when you were afraid, holding me tightly to ward off the danger.

But then it was time to let go. Or so it seemed at the time, and seeming, it seems, has become being. There are other ways to ward off the darkness, and other hands to hold. From clenched arms to clenched shut eyes and fists. All that I hold you with now is my memories.