Traveling
Walking side-by-side, we arrived at a fork in the road. There was a road with your name on it. I took your hand and we traveled it together. We walked for a long time and you emptied out the contents of your mind. Your heart. You told me all of your secrets. Little pebbles that crowded your spirit and suffocated you. You gave them to me. I breathed on to them and turned them into crystals. Then I returned them to you, a beautiful testiment to your pain.
There was a road with my name on it. I took your hand and we traveled it together. We walked for a few minutes in the quiet. I started to speak my truth, stumbling along as I got used to the feeling of being heard. At first, a whisper. It grew stronger with tonal ambition. Then abruptly, you release my hand. Your feet stop moving. I look back at you longingly, hoping you will catch up with me. You stay still, feet planted firmly in the dirt. Then you turn and walk the other way.
I continue walking. My truths become whispers again until they fade back into thoughts, circling my mind. Searching for a safe place for them to find refuge.
I go on walking. Searching for myself. Holding space beside me for the traveler who will desire to walk the distance of my path.