how do you move on from having the life of someone you care about in your hands? from feeling her hand slip from yours as you’re about to die? do you, in these final moments, feel guilt? that you could have done more? that you could have saved her? is this why you’re doing anything in your power to stop the inevitable, throwing everything tied to your identity to the enemy because the only thing that really matters is her? is desperately wanting to keep her alive all that goes through your mind? do you ever stop to think about your own suffering? of course not does death itself not frighten you as much as the possibility of failing her? is imagining the look on her face when you finally admit that there is nothing left to do scarier than dying? does the horror lie not in your own mortality but in becoming the reason despair settles into her expression?
because love makes failure feel unforgivable.
how do you move on from trusting someone enough to put your life in their hands? someone who guided you through literal hell? someone who repeatedly chose your life over his own without hesitation, over and over again? from his hand being the only anchor between you and total darkness? do you have any other choice but to offer your unwavering devotion and trust in his judgment at that moment? did you ever? how do you feel knowing he won’t let go even if it kills him? how does it feel to have someone who cares about you so much he’s willing to die with you rather than let go of your hand? how does it feel to let someone help you for the first time, sacrificing so much for your sake? what scares you more? dying or the unbearable realization that someone chose you over himself until the very end? doesn’t it kill you? doesn’t it comfort you? does allowing yourself to be cared for completely make that vulnerability both unfamiliar and devastatingly comforting?
because trust makes surrender feel inevitable.
