On the Brink

I am on the brink.

I have typed,

edited,

deleted

repeat.

And still,

I refuse to text you.

That counts.

Every urge I survive

is proof

I am not as weak

as this feeling wants me to believe.

I miss you.

I miss who I am when I’m with you

loud,

bold,

audacious,

unapologetically alive.

I miss how confident I feel.

How much space I take up.

How brightly I exist.

Because you reminded me of everything I am

soft, yet unmistakably fierce,

quiet, yet capable of shaking a room,

dreamy, yet startlingly brave,

delicate in my heart,

unyielding in my spirit,

gentle in my touch,

and bold in my fire.

I pick up my phone.

I search for your name.

I scroll through our old messages.

I listen to your voice,

over and over again.

And then

I put it down.

That is not weakness.

That is choice.

Desire does not require obedience.

I can miss you

and still refuse to reach.

I can ache

and still stay.

So I create a place for you in my Keep

a quiet room for unsent words,

for moments I do not touch.

Every time I want to reach.

Every time I miss you.

Every time I almost speak.

I place it there.

And today

Today, I count the minutes

until I can say:

I survived another week

of not reaching.

With Love

Abii ♥