I fell in love with the idea of a god
with a man who cannot be touched,
who commands the movement of the universe with his fingertips.
But here, between my palms, you become human
who smiles with an endless pride for his students,
who hurts and grieves like any other.
Who breaks like any other.
You are godly, my love. But your heart still beat so fragile under my palm. Your bones feel so brittle, and even your smile grows weak.
You are human, my love. Do good to remember that, once I can no longer remind you with my own devotions.
You cry, and you scream, and you bring flowers every week, then every other, then simply whenever possible. And you sit beside me and talk about your dearest students, and oh, how they’ve grown stronger, you’d be so proud of them. I am, I am, I am proud of you too, you know I am.
Just know, please know, this was never my intention. I had hoped it would be when we were old and grey, as unlikely as it was. I wanted it to be by your side, not in grief but in a silent peace. I wanted to hold your hand.
Nevertheless, it’s gone now. I’m gone. I’ve left you alone again, but you’re strong. The strongest, aren’t you? You love to say it. Show them.
// Hi I found this in my drafts from god knows when and it made me sad again so I'm making it everyone's problem
