Something happened around this time. It was a pivotal point.
I couldn't hold the pain of history in its corner of hate. He saw it. And it was bad. I've held that pain for so long.
It was also the fear that followed the crash. I tried so hard to put the pieces back so he wouldn't see, but they no longer fit. I was in the middle of a storm with no shelter. I had worked so hard to build that shelter...
It felt all wrong. I could feel the wind tangling my hair and the rain hitting my face like tiny needles. The cold reached my bones and thawed my heart. I tried to pull myself away, and tried to hold on. My fingers bled tears when I gave up.
I felt alive in my misery--a pain you feel only when you're living, really living.
I looked up and he was there.
I reached for him when I wanted to run away. I held on because I am a survivor and he is my air. I spoke of a fear that has always been and will always be, because I am made from it.
And something inside me altered.
I opened up and fell inside him. Everything I was, became what I am, yet I am more.
I am his.
I am his.