By Jasper Milne, Contributor
Letting go of that moment is hard.
He hugged you tighter than you’d ever been held before—or so it seemed at the time—and he shocked you with that big heart of his. The comfort was instant: The hurt in your own heart seemed less, the weight of the world lifted off your shoulders.
“You’re fine,” he said as he settled his chin on the top of your head. That moment was the miracle you’d been searching for everywhere but him; it was light in the dark, breaking through the rain and the clouds, sun streaming down on your small existence. Suddenly your head was a little clearer.
Although you’re sure it lasted longer than you think, that moment passed before your heart could beat. And even though you could feel it fading away, the grey rolling back in, it was lighter this time. You fell asleep that night with the ghost of his touch across your shoulders. After all, it was just a moment.
Just a moment, you remind yourself. Time keeps moving on, and as it does you wonder why that moment changed so many things for you. You decide to indulge yourself, allow yourself to pretend, just for a second.
He made you feel safe. From the world, but also from yourself. From the dark thing you knew you were. And perhaps that was the cold water that shocked you back to your senses, not the actions of the saviour you thought he was.
And so, you allow what little you have of that memory to fade, fall further into the background. You let go of him.
And that’s okay.
