Fearing the Fall....

Walking towards the museum I suddenly feel his hand on mine. He wraps his fingers firmly around my hand, pulling me along with him, making me his. He seems unconcerned with what others think of us. I glance over at him and he just smiles back. I stare into his blue eyes and I fear the fall. But even more I fear not being able to fall. I worry that I will hurt him, the man that says the sweetest things to me and seems proud to be with me. Never straying from my side, always touching me and holding me close. I want to hide from him how broken I am inside. I never discuss the past, the others, the two that damaged me most of all, one with his hands and the other with his actions. I know that if this is just a brief moment in time, he helped me. He made me realize that I must reclaim my heart and that it is to be treasured. That I don’t have to be, as another calls me, a beautiful girl in a deep depression (stolen from a song). As he slides his hand along my back, I shiver, momentarily lost. I begin to think that perhaps I could fall.

This morning my phone sings to me. The message “I miss you this morning” sent to me before I have even crawled from my bed. Suddenly the cooing doves seemed sad compared to me. Yes, I can fall, just slower this time.