And I understand. I understand why people hold hands: I’d always thought it was about possessiveness, saying ‘This is mine’. But it’s about maintaining contact. It is about speaking without words. It is about I want you with me and don’t go.
Love is illogical, love had consequences - I did this to myself, and I should be able to take it.
When you live in the dark for so long, you begin to love it. And it loves you back, and isn’t that the point? You think, the face turns to the shadows, and just as well. It accepts, it heals, it allows.
But it also devours.
I am, terrified. Terrified that the things inside me are the things that will keep me from ever finding a home inside someone else.
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