07-31-2015, 12:23 PM
He wonders if it’s the real reason: I didn’t want to risk you. If he would have done the same, had he awoken with wanderlust blossoming in his heart. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t think so. He has survived without her, even progressed, but it was not his choice. His choice would have been to stay. To be by her side, a matching set, two glass houses in the stone throwers’ world.
He hasn’t had much wanderlust. Not when he had her, when she was home. They had made the beach home, and the meadow, and other lands. And then she had left and he had had no home because she had not been there.
Now there is a place, the falls, and maybe it will be home.
She touches him, gently, les either one crack. He does not want her to cry. She is back and she is alive and it is all that matters, that they are here another day, reunited.
“I would never leave you,” he says.
Already he cannot imagine being without her, she floods back into the spaces she left, the empty niches. He forgot what it was like, to feel full with her closeness, her presence.
contagion
be careful making wishes in the dark