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It's as if I've been running for so long that I no longer know where I started. It’s like running along the edge, on the verge of falling with every step I take, as though there’s a stone beneath my sole that could roll and send me over the cliff. Like following a trail without knowing where it leads or even where I am heading, uncertain of which road to take.
It's what I feel every day, every night. Every minute, every second. Every beat of my heart. It hurts, and yet it feels as though I can't live without it. Can't breathe without it. It's like taking what's mine and paying a high price for it, like owning something and yet feeling it slip away, with doubts and fears, and knowing it'll all come back to me no matter what.
It's a game of come and go, of trust and desire alongside pain and need, and this fucking body of mine that gives in when I need it to carry on, when I need to stand.
And it's you at the end of the line, with open arms — all at once the beginning and the end, the departure and the arrival, running to meet me even though I feel you are firmly anchored to the ground. All at once, the barrier before the cliff and the rock tumbling, causing me to fall; but you fall with me, slowing the fall, halting the fall, until we reach home, until you hit home.
It's how it is, every day, every night. Every minute, every second. Every mistake I make. You waited behind, you came back when I called, you found me, you saved me. And you never asked how, why, or for anything in return. You simply gave me what I owned, what I missed, what I shouldn't have left behind, without reproach, with your signature dimples at the corner of your mouth, because in the middle of the mess I created, you just had to smile to make everything feel like it used to be.
It's a game of Monopoly where I owned the buildings and the money, but you had the streets. I couldn't settle my life, even though I owned the world, because there was no place to call home. And when I gave in, when everything seemed lost and my castle of cards shattered into pieces, I finally saw the pavement, free of all the lies I had built, and hit the ground.
And it's you, it has always been you. And I am not even surprised that you answered the phone. That you came to me amid the ashes and the fire, and I wasn't taken aback when you resecured the noose of our bond, taking things where I had cut them when L died.
It's what you are, every day, every night. Every minute, every second. Every everything.