Oh, sweet time alone... Just my Artist and I on the page, becoming reacquainted. It's a little awkward at first, almost like a reunion with a lost lover. Silent musings are exchanged between us. Did you miss me? Is it obvious that I missed you? Do you still feel something? Who have you loved since... me? I make a remark hoping she still remembers our inside jokes; the lightheartedness with which we used to communicate. Waiting for the right moment, or what I think is the right moment, I reach out... hoping for -- longing for -- connection.
Here we are, trembling as we teeter on the sharp edge of the unknown, wondering which way we will fall.
Oh god, I missed you.
I could cry for the relief of being with her again, as if the whole time we were apart I was holding my breath. And now, standing before her, I can breathe again.
"Shall we?" my Artist says. I nod, unable to speak, though my mind swirls with words, jilted sentences and half-finished stories. I collapse into her arms, overcome with emotion. She holds me, firm and forgiving, and we make... art.
No comments:
Post a Comment