I touched his hand
For the first time in three years, we connected through some sort of internal magnetic field other than our eyes. People always say ones eyes never lie. I used to believe that I could look into his eyes, peer through his shielded soul, and evaluate his hearts desire.
I looked at him; and our eyes still danced to a tune that our mouths could never verbalize.
I remember the night I allowed the person that I knew to die in my arms. He told me that he was going away with no real indication of when or even if he would ever return. I could feel my eyes swelling as my sight blurred while small streams of internal salt pebbles streamed down my coca cheeks.
He promised to return. When? For a long time I believed a small part of me died that night as well. I was young, but engulfed in this 40 year time span of nurtured care manifested in 8 months. When people and hours are aligned it doesn’t take much time to fall, yet when no one is there to grasp your hand, how will you rise?
Thoughts and flashes of the past stream through my mind, like my very own made for tv movie. One with no conclusion. There were times I yearned for a Bandaid to piece together the peace that had once enveloped my heart.
“I never meant to hurt you…” is what I was told.
Three years later the pain is resurrected and my tears are almost as pure as the day he walked away. I held his hand. The first real physical contact in a lifetime of dreams.
So menial
So small
Yet incomparable
He never really apologized. At least I can’t recall.
When he had nothing I learned to adore his attributes, while his engrained qualities were a mere incentive. What he could offer me physically, materially could never abound to what he unknowingly gave me emotionally. Still, I don’t think he had ever grasped that. Merely touching his fingertips conveyed a love buried. He looked my way. We sugar and bury the past through silent stares and nervous laughter.
Our 15 minutes of resurrected devotion was blured in memories and color coated dreams. Our emotions some sort of optical illusion; only seen by us, yet blinded by society. We could not live like this. What is felt should be evident and without question. So, we remained.
Our hands parted ways
A heart held captive released by a tender kiss on the cheek. It was goodbye and this time there was no return.
