Between leaving this space to start afresh, and staying to maintain some semblance of consistency, I was made to stay. I have weathered storms that left me broken these past few months, but their telling is for another time, or it may never come at all. Things come to us that are beyond all forms of control: the weather, a rip in your suit, you stumbling down the pavement in picturesque flailing of limbs, chance meetings with a lost friend, sharing a smile with a stranger, laughing inwardly to a joke remembered in our heads. I have laid down drafts for my departure, all intricately woven as to reflect my belief in some grand design I cannot comprehend that has me entangled. Shackled. That at my weakest I whisper to myself that all is not for naught in the end.
In the end.
In the end you come waltzing into my life and I find myself caught in your embrace, and your whispered professions, your - your honest confessions come knocking at my doors, incessantly hoping to weather the rock that once was a heart. I rebuff and reason that everything is too soon, that this briefness of time comes with a familiarity to it: a bitterness in my gut and a salty tang to my eyes. And in the end we come to this.
I hear nothing but the last beats of this heart at my feet. I see nothing but your face contorted in honest pain and yet your eyes still enthrall me so - I brim with the force of thawed ice that I cannot hold back. You whisper those words again, one hand raised in a final plea.
Forgive me for this sin: I took the fall.