The weeks feel difficult to navigate on these glass-shard-covered pathways. You’re nearby, yet you won’t.

I can feel your energy. It’s screaming that you want to plug in and connect. Yet I sense that you’re holding back; through misaligned fear, you step back and restrain your thoughts in an attempt to force yourself to reset to a period before we connected.

Vulnerability is seeping from my soul. I have to stop myself from wanting to hug you. To dispel the mindset that I can bring you comfort, going against an innate fact that I know I can. For the first time in this lifetime, my patience is standing tall. There’s something eradicating the standard thoughts and processes. I’m deeply compelled to stay and be present for you.

Admittedly, I stopped fighting my feelings when I knew you created a safe space for me to express my raw thoughts and distinct emotions, without the gaze of societal judgements or the pressure of an incoming negative sound wave. 

Since Monday, my anxiety has been turbulent. I feel this deep urge to reach out and guide you into a warm embrace. I miss you.

This morning you found me selecting a suitable envelope, one that needed a little bit of tape. You came over, took my right hand in your left and expressed how much you’ve missed me. You guided me out, and I willingly followed, envelope still in my left.

There is no expectation. I want to show you the safe space I have for you. It’s at the volume you need, at the level you require, and, of course, if you would like to be hugged in silence, my arms are open.