Holding space (with love)
This is just something I wrote!
You sit on the floor. Holding space. No pressure. I sit next to you. No touching though. Not yet. I'm not ready.
You sense this. Relaxed, as ever, you tell me that there is plenty of time although, you will have to leave at some point, we both have lives. You assure me that you'll be back. You say that we can write, we can talk.
You promise that you won't disappear. I don't quite.... I can't quite allow myself to believe that. Much better to expect it - saves the heartbreak. You keep your word.
Slowly, I dare to believe that you won't just up and leave. I like you. It's not romantic love but a special, perhaps more platonic form of love. I take strength from you. I probably shouldn't but I do.
I hope that one day I can pay this forward, your kindness, your care, your hope.
Eventually, we touch. It's electric! I'm not scared of touch. I just didn't want to embarrass myself.
This really isn't romantic love.
Why do I keep saying that. Would it matter if it was?
You tell me that you care. God - I needed that.
True to your word you never do leave. Not forever anyway.
I'm not scared of being alone but when I let people in it's because they matter and I'm afraid of the pain of losing them.