velvet boxing gloves .

im fighting this feeling .
im dodging & weaving ... trying to keep my breath .
im losing the battle against this feeling, but i dont even know if i want to win the war;
its punching me at the fine line between my logic & emotions .
regardless of where the discomfort is stemming, i know that both are at the same consensus .
those two have met in the depths of my body to create an offspring named fear .

i dont fear much, ive seen a lot in my years .
nevertheless, loss is a fresh, unfamiliar wound everytime .
having something tight in the grips of my fingers to slip through like sand is horrid .
handing over your all & losing it in the blink of an eye is a ghastly realization .
listening to corrine bailey rae's "trouble sleeping" to corrine bailey rae's "choux pastry heart" .
holding hands with him to screening phone calls is macabre .

the simplicity of a phone call can grow the mold of feelings .
sure, feelings are amazing . the seed planted with compassion, happiness, care, and hope .
but the weeds ... sprouting up jealousy, entitlement, pride & fear , can ruin a promising bloom .
having someone hold your hand to jump off a cliff, then push you off instead is terrifying .

but ...

damn . we laugh . we smile . we connect .
take my hand, we'll jump .

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