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November 24, 2015

To see him again would be the ultimate act of selfishness. But my vision is clouded. I long to breathe him in. Just to be near him. Next to him. He centers me. He is my peace.

He showed up when I was at my lowest. Toying with loneliness and pity. He picked me up. He showed me how to love again. There were moments where I would be wholly encapsulated by fits of rage. And I would think of him.

And he pulled me out of the hellish pit that I was seemingly trapped in.

He offered me his hand. And I gave him my heart. I dream of him where he is so majestic and heroic. And when I wake up, that remains true. I don’t want him to choose. He would tell me how he and I could escape together. Away from a world of judgment. And we would share our peace. And my love grew. Now, there is no one but him that I can see with the purest clarity. I can’t be without him. He warned me that this would happen. I told him to experience this, to experience me now, in that moment. Still, he was cautious.

Being with him would be the ultimate act of selfishness. But to feel him again, to have our spirits reconnect, our minds invested in each other’s weighs heavier. I need him again. To save me. And he will, with the peace that he brings.


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