With Apologies to Bryan, Henry, Katherine, and Anne

I almost titled this one "Run to You," but then I thought better of it after my previous post about that song.  And yet, these are the words that keep coming to my mind right now.  This is, more than any other thing, what I want to do.

I want to run to you.   I want to do this almost literally.  I want to have almost one of those moments from a cheesy stupid chick flick where I get in a car, drive, get out, stumble to find my footing and wind up in your waiting embrace.  There wouldn't need to be words because you would recognize that I am past the point of endurance now, past the point of being able to carry this alone (although I have tried), or I wouldn't have had to come to you with it at all.  You would just enfold me, hold me in a grip just one or two degrees short of too tight so I could feel that there was one thing that was stable, one thing that was not going anywhere, one thing that was unquestionably secure, and we would stand there.  I would listen to the steady, rational sound of your heart beating, and I would be reminded that this was all I had to do, live and be here in this place with you at this moment.  I would be permitted to let all the other go.  I would pry my mental fingers open and slowly lay down the burdens that are breaking me.

I'm tired of war drums.  I'm tired of the sounds of panic and sirens going off and wailing and despair and the end of worlds and the feel of all the decks shifting beneath my feet as attack after attack hits.  I just want to bury my face in the collar of your shirt and smell fabric softener and you, just want to feel you solid and warm, without caprice and logical, calm and asking nothing of me that I can't give you, a place of peace.

If I could have this just for a little while, I think I could endure all the rest of it.  I could fold the moment like an origami crane and put it in my pocket, take it out and hold it in the palm of my hand when all the voices around me grow shrill and insane, when every situation is beyond my ability to better or even affect.  I could remember the feeling of you holding me, of you grounding me to this earth to keep me from spinning away into the chaos that surrounds me, and I could rise up to shove the stupidity aside again and start the fight anew.