I Want to Hold Your Hand
"Blaine? Can I hold your hand?"
At first all I could think about were the hands of that monster, hurting me, holding me down, but they were gone now, replaced by loving ones. He held my eyes with his beautiful blue ones & he held my hand in his strong ones as he sat down at my bedside.
He held my hand while the doctors took their swabs, & ran their tests, & snapped their pictures. He held my hand while the doctor prodded & poked. He held my hand as he used his free one to wipe away the tears streaming down my face, to push my hair away from my forehead.
He held my hand when I buried my head in his chest, pleading with God to just take me NOW, take me that very second. I prayed for God to make me forget, & to make everyone forget me, as well. I prayed for God to make it as though I never was, because living, & breathing, & thinking, & knowing, & remembering they were all too much...it's too much. I could survive the attack, but I was pretty sure I couldn't survive reliving this night everynight in my nightmares.
But he kept holding my hand, his eyes never leaving mine, his fingers tangled perfectly with my fingers. He held my hand as I tried not to listen as the doctor mentioned tearing. He held my hand while as the tears ran down my face. He held my hand while the last shred of my dignity was taken from me. And it finally occurred to me...No, God won't take me, not yet, not now, but instead He has given me him, gave me my Kurt, & his warm, strong, caring hands to help carry this burden, help navigate my way. Kurt was still holding my hand when I silently thanked God for him.
"Blaine, are you still with me baby?"
"Never let go, Kurt. Please? Don't ever let go."