that day even the sun was afraid of you and the weight you carried
How easily she misunderstands his absence—and he cannot blame her. Can see where she would take his avoidance on commentary on his lack of love instead of his overwhelming abundance of it. His mother was his northern star. The kind, gentle light that permeated his life. She was what kept him softened when he threatened to turn to granite. Stayed his hand when he nearly tipped over the edge. He kept her tucked away in the deepest pockets of his heart, holding her kindness near to him, and when he ran away from the truth—he had to run away from her, too. He could not bear to see his pain reflected back in her dark eyes. Could not bear to look at her and finally see himself there. The hurt that it would inflict upon her.
He is not certain, now, though, that it is worse than inflicting this worry on her.
The wound cuts deep and he wonders if he could have ever avoided it.
But she says his name and he nearly buckles. He stands still as she wraps around him and he takes a shuddering breath before he drops his chin, holding her close and ignoring the ache that her angelic light induces—the weakness that creeps up in the back of his mind in its presence. “You were always there for me,” he answers before he can stop himself. “Even in the dark, you were the light I carried with me.” He smiles a little, golden eyes closing as everything familiar about her wraps around him, soothing his frayed edges. “I don’t think that I could have survived it if I didn’t have you there with me.”
When she pulls back, he lets her, studying her and noting that which was different.
The stardust. The amplified light. The strength.
A ripple passes over his expression and he pushes it to the side, instead focusing on her question.
“Yeah, mom,” he laughs—the picture of health with flashing white teeth and bright eyes.
“I’m feeling much better.”
so you saluted every ghost you've ever prayed to and then buried it where bones are buried
@[Ryatah]