It has been a strange and awkward past few days...I am honest when I say I am thrilled at your homecoming, but I am more terrified than anything. I am terrified for your fragile pendulum of a heart, a construction of crushing defeat and love and beauty. I throw my arms out to catch it as it swings toward me yet I can't seem to reach until it swings away again and I can no longer see it. I stare into space hoping I would be able to catch it this next time around when it swings my way, so I wait and I wait.
When you open up to me about your wounds, I learn more about myself and how horrible I was. It's cathartic. It compels me to salvage whatever is left of you and I; it compels me to cherish and love in hopes to nurse those deep wounds and to resuscitate this marriage/relationship/friendship.
I am just a person. I have no special healing powers, I have no soothing touch. All I have is a beat up heart with a constant flow of insane passion pouring out the holes. Your homecoming has incited a new rush. Your love sustains my passions so that it doesn't dry out. I can only hope I can do the same for you.
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