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09-13-2015, 05:56 PM
It is when a dark shape appears just ahead of you that your eyes narrow, slow steps coming to a halt. As it moves forwards, first to and then under the sentinels, you watch with baited breath, your heart pumping violently within your chest, for the metal to creak to life in grinding motions. You are almost surprised that they do not, and though your body visibly relaxes, there is still suspicion scrawled on to your feminine face. You do not know what you had been expecting, only that it had not been her. For what seems like ages as the seconds pass you cannot will yourself forwards, afraid that she had changed, afraid that perhaps she would not remember you, afraid of the potential of being hurt that opening your heart brings. Even if you cannot admit it, somewhere within your swaying tides of emotion there is anger. She had left without a single word, leaving you to worry yourself nearly sick, with all the questions that even now she does not answer, except one. She is safe, and as you look at her with all the indifference you can muster, afraid of falling too deeply into her, into the chaos that has reigned over you, she is healthy. She has filled out; shed the skin of childhood, into one of a beauty that only maturity can bring. She is safe, and after a moment you breathe her name, clinging to that single fact and forgetting all of your bitterness. You press your chest to hers, lacing your neck around her, only releasing your grasp to pull away and look at her again, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips. “I’ve missed you.” Please don’t leave me again. You do not say it but a sudden desperateness washes over your features then, you can feel some of the color drain from you, your face becoming weak as your brows furrow, eyes water, your lips pressing together tightly into a frown. It is difficult to accept, despite your elation, that after endless days without her she would just simply return with the intention to stay. Difficult to accept that she would just leave her responsibilities, those that had accepted her into their lives without question, that she would leave you. Maybe she had meant more to you than you had to her; maybe you are making all of this worse than it needs to be. You work to swallow the lump in your throat then, despite the sting that the thought brings, straightening yourself and blinking the tears from your eyes, doing your best to quiet the war between your head and your heart. “Where have you been?” It is not what you wanted to say, you do not want to bombard her with the million questions you have held your tongue against knowing that she would answer them in time if she needed, if she wanted, to. But it, this trying to justify for yourself her absence when she has nothing to answer to, not to you, is the only thing that stops the second-guessing, the swell of emotions within you from bleeding out in scalding words. |
