The More We Give

I had held myself back, you know? When first we met. I had been hurt and though I was venturing out I hadn’t quite found myself.  Indeed I doubted that I ever would. I was such a fleeting thing. I was wherever a smile or wink of an eye held me and I called it home. I was anywhere other than the dark spaces where I had crawled after I had hurt.  Every sparkle of the world was just out of my grasp and so entranced me and my thoughts into want that I had shunned it and dreamed of a better world,. alone where I had only myself to blame.  Where people could look past me and past my own blame.  There must be something wrong with me, I thought. I lived, I breathed with a smile on but living, not.

Then I met you, like a wisp of dream and for just a moment my smile flashed as though you were mine. For that moment, you were and so was I and flash, it was gone. You were out of sight, intrigued. I was in my mind wishing for,. wanting,. That shield. That protected me from pain. Then you came again. A breezed hello, what of the day and we spoke. I don’t know how long we talked but that time was an eternity of exchange.  You engaged me in conversation and drew me in with every breath.  I didn’t know then that you were hoping, too. That you had thought yourself awkward and strange, like me, in your own way. We didn’t have time to question then. Our insecurities were shushed and watching, hoping just the same. We set up our roadblocks and not even thinking we moved them back. We rode the moment for what it was, first a trickle, then a flood but both of us giving a bit more of who we were with every breath. That’s what I had been missing. That’s what had never felt quite right.  Where those who were that had given all that they were to steal my heart. Where their intent had rushed right in and crashed upon me to force an echo, we found our beat. I give a little. You give a little. Back and forth with every action and every breath. 

It was our first meeting then and after all this time it’s as though we have never left.    



About Laura DeLucio Gross

The beauty of the word is the subconscious nature in which it finds it's way upon our lips or past our fingertips. The stroke of our fingers on a pen or a key or the softest breath carried past our lips have such an impact that friends, relatives and strangers can carry such words with them in their minds, to come along with us on a journey into our thoughts. In our darkest hours we must always remember to remain conscious that people have lived and died by words. I am a wife, mother, confidant and friend to many. There are no strangers in my world. Only friends that I have not yet had a chance to know. Sensually minded, self-educated, street wise, natural living, power tool wielding, minimalist mom with transcendental aspirations.
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