Gingerly, I tread down the cobblestone steps, tugging on the collar of my eager retriever from his water home, my sighs, the jingling tags, the sprinkle of wet.
You stand watching, hands down by your side, as I continue to balance and falter, to no one’s fault.
And almost, not quite, lose it.
Your arms remain by your side,
This catches my attention and I think back to the time when your arms would have instinctively reached out to
catch my fall.
But now, a few years between then and now,
I catch myself.
And I continue to catch myself. Your arms no longer needed. An unknown other’s arms needed now to hold me and comfort me when I get myself
upright. Up. Right. Just.
The clinging mind wants me to think you want to catch me, like before, as back then,
way back then.
But you see that now, unlike then, I have learned through time, grief and life experiences, to catch myself, your arms were notaround,
no longer needed.Browse Front PageShare Your Idea
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