Grasp. V

They are the eyes for the blind, the voice of the deaf. A symbol of all a human can hold. They represent our daily lives, what our lives used to be, and what our life might become. A sense of touch is one of the only things Washing away the permanent alienation instilled upon us at birth.

From the day this balloon wielding Saint was bestowed upon me it was a small detail I often overlooked, despite that they became the core of our near telepathic communication— aside from the portals that lie in wake within her pupils.  She seemed unaware the immense power she held within them. Or she was just taking it easy on me. I could not care any less. The force of her magnetic grasp always seemed to pull me closer to the one thing I always needed.

She spoke seldom. Her smile was always one which washed away all my worries. Yet at times that too made me anxious. Concerned with the possibility that she'll just take the balloon and leave. Alas, I often tried my hardest to not let the mystery of a unique countenance get to me. These frivolous falicies always cluttered my mind. Always finding a way to tear down the barrier she built to protect my fragile mind.

With the lack of words between us they became Everything in how we understood each other. Alongside her eyes. She was covered in invisible flaws. She hid some by purpose and some by accident. I could never tell which no matter how much she ran through my mind, not matter how long I sat with a childish grin on my face as I stared; no matter how much time seemed to stop around her—I...—I never could.

Despite all this one thing I could see. They were damaged, scarred, permanently blistered. Those wounds are the most we've had in common at first glance. Mine were the same, the damage extended past them; all the way up. The feeling of familiarity when they were intertwined was partly why I've come to care for her so deeply. (Even though she's been taking care of me this whole time). The action of conjoining between them was the empitome of a completed puzzle. All the peices finally in place. One small touch and I could feel all she had felt. She felt all that I had. One of the smallest gestures amongst humans yet for us it had become Everything.
Even though we both had our damages I never felt the roughness that should be there. It was always suddenly soft. Like one of those memory foam mattresses.

Even before her I never coped well with letting things go. I was a people hoarder. No matter how awful or how much Pain these succubi dished out over the years, my own lonliness always scared me more. I knew myself well, I could torture myself permanently for days on end. It's difficult for the outside world to try and protect one from themselves.

The thing that had become our defining feature of our companionship was the same force which had once held the worst weapon against myself. When you get so attached to another being, as if super gluing yourself to them emotionally it can easily become a burden for them and you would never know. That is one of my utmost fears, granted I've always believed I was a burden. She's been proving me wrong lately. Another thing that makes this world colorful again.

I was aware of the damage that she must do to herself at times. How else could someone be so helpful towards me unless she truly understood. I wish I was equal to her. My grasp never had the same affect on her as hers did to me. If anything I'd suspect the opposite. Nevertheless she looked so content. A look on her face she called 'Adorableness' even though I had no previous meaning of the word I could tell that was the word for how she always looked.

So selfless. So very selfless... She worries me with it. And I could never repay her. And yet she didn't seem to care about that. She still would let me hang on. To this balloon, and her. I feel at peace now despite my worries. Because that's all they were— worries. And she always reassured me. With that effortless angelic touch. Locked within her grasp— this is where I was meant to be.