I’m afraid to leave. I don’t want to move. I can barely speak, but I manage: I ask to be held.
He reaches out to me, pulling me into his arms. “Baby, calm down,” he says. The confusion stiffening my muscles is tangible and he explains that his words came from the lyrics of a song.
I feel relief flood my body when he wraps his arms around me. And he knows me now. He can feel the fear stinging his skin under my fingertips. He knows I won’t be able to let go until he pushes me away, so he puts on the song to play for me while I bury my face in his neck.
I breathe him in like if I inhale hard enough, I can keep a piece of him inside of me. He holds me steady and secure, and I envy his surety, his confidence. I grasp at his skin like I’m clinging for dear life, like I might slip and fall straight into hell unless I dig my claws into him. He rocks me back and forth to the beat. Stimulation. Emotional distance.
And it’s effortless. The love in his embrace permeates deep enough to reach the lonely wounded animal that hides inside my bones. It soothes me like a summer rain and I rest my cheek against his chest. He makes a joke about how we’re slow-dancing again and I just nod into his shoulder, afraid that if I look into his eyes, he’ll see the pain in my own.
He hums along to the music intermittently, not loosening his grip for a moment.
Baby, come give me your love…
I’m completely enveloped in his arms as he tries to hold me together. And, not for the first time, I am irrevocably overtaken. The words are already forming in the back of my throat and as I open my mouth, I can feel the echo of my heart pounding against his chest, much faster than before. I’m one grain of sand, churning and tumbling, trying to fight against the entire ocean. I push with all of my might, and my lips move, but no sound comes out of me. I’m shouting at the top of my lungs, I love you, but the wind inside of me takes the words away before they can meet his ears.
The music stops. He lets me go and I struggle to do the same. I can’t meet his eyes.
I turn to walk out the door but he grabs my hand. Don’t go yet.
“I love you,” he reminds me. He doesn’t expect me to respond; he knows me now.
But, for the very first time, we both hear me reply, “I love you, too.”