The soft light from the early morning sky flooded my room. The curtains blew lightly and I slowly lifted my eyelids to see the new day that was in front of me. She shifted next to me and I felt her press her body against mine a bit more then it had been just a few moments before.
Looking down I saw my missing other half, my best friend, my partner? Her hair was strewn over her face and her hand rested on my chest while the other was wrapped under the pillow that her head rested on. I wondered how long I could stay here and not move without disrupting her rest. Each breath that I took in gently raised my chest which in turn raised her hand. The gentle way the day had begun was all I could have ever hoped for. I could only hope that she would be part of each morning from this point forward.
She floated away 4 years ago and floated back into my life less then 24 hours ago. When she left that day, she took part of my heart with her; a part that I learned to live without, because it was safe with hers. Even knowing that though didn't make the pain any less. The fracture that wouldn't heal, was still in my chest. As I looked down at her, I couldn't help wonder if even now, that she was back, if it would scar over and become whole again.
This girl had entered my life when I was young and believed in magic and miracles. The first time she left me, I found out the hard way that life was not made up of magic and miracles but possibly heartbreak that never ended and just festered and became worse over time.
Over and over it seemed, she didn't pick me, it was always something else, someone else. When I saw her profile enter the garage yesterday my breath was taken from my lungs. For a moment I wanted to slide back under that truck I'd been working on and ignore the fact that she'd suddenly walked back into my life. She breezed in, along with the cool summer air that was blowing through the open bay doors that day. Even though my heart said to do just that, ignore that vision that I was sure was only in my head, a strong tug from my soul reached out and grabbed on and wouldn't allow me to.
She'd matured, but was the same girl, the same 6 year old I'd played with as a child, the same 17 year old that I'd fallen hard for one year. The woman that walked in was the same woman who at 18 had broken my heart and chosen him. Her head turned and looked toward the office door.
I watched her turn and take a step, her head dropped and her hair still long and chestnut colored fell to sheild her face. Her hand came up and gently tucked the wayward strands behind her ears. Then her chest raised as she took a long breath in and I let a long breath out. Her eyes closed and her lips trembled. She must have been talking herself through, because her shoulders straightened, her hands which were twisting in each other relaxed, and she patted down her jacket. The last step was raising her head and quietly saying something to herself that I couldn't quite make out from across the garage.
Letting her walk to the office door and not stopping her, were the hardest 40 seconds I'd lived in a very long time. Every cell in my body had wanted to jump up and grab her and turn her roughly to me, making her face me, the boy who she broke. Make her face the man who still loved her even though he'd fought like hell the past 4 years to make himself not do just that.