Don’t Go

What love says when fear breaks

As he turned to walk away, I could not catch my breath. My heart raced as if it meant to pursue him. With each step he took, I felt the bond between us stretch and strain, pulled thinner by distance and silence. Part of me ached to scream for him to stop, but pride held my voice hostage.

He kept going, his steps fueled by anger, steadied by resolve, and chased by emotions he refused to face. Each step tightened something in my chest. Before he slipped from view, my heart stopped. My breath seized; I couldn’t swallow. Fear slammed into my soul like a wave, nearly drowning me.

I cannot lose him. My life will have no meaning without him.

As our bond reached its breaking point, strained beyond what it could endure, fear gave way to love. I found the strength to drag in a breath; just enough to give me what I needed to speak.

“Don’t go,” I said, my voice loud and rough, torn from a dry throat.

He paused. Not advancing, but not returning either. I am sure he was weighing his options; deciding whether he could forgive my impertinent attitude, the one that triggered his exit.

I knew the moment the words left my mouth that I shouldn’t have said them. Why do we strike out when we are afraid? I hoped he could forgive me. I just wanted him to turn around.

After what felt like forever, he slowly pivoted to face me. As he lifted his head and allowed his eyes to meet mine, tears were already slipping down his cheeks. I saw the hurt and the fear written across his face; but, just behind them, I could see the ove still hiding there.

I swallowed in minor relief and admitted, “I am sorry. My words… they shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t…” I took a steadying breath. “I apologize. Please forgive me.”

I dipped my head in shame. My own eyes filled with tears. As I drew in reluctant breaths, I feared he couldn’t… he wouldn’t.

Then suddenly, he was there, standing in front of me, lifting my head gently by my chin. As our eyes met, we both held our breath, allowing whatever pain remained to fall away.

We embraced, holding each other tightly, as if neither of us ever wanted to feel that separation again. We stood there, feeling the tension drain from our bodies as we held one another up.

Before I could repeat my apology, he whispered, “I love you. And I forgive you.”