Awakening One: Her

I wake up.

She is sitting beside my bed, arm supporting her head. Fast asleep.

Once again, her nightly vigil.

She is all grown up now, as am I. We are nothing like the people we used to be. I am no longer the overly-enthusiastic young boy; she is no longer the idealistic young woman. We have changed, grown up in every way.

Except for the way we feel about each other. No, that's not true.

Except for the way I feel about her.

I doubt that her feelings are the same as they once were. Once, we had each other's backs. Now, she is the one protecting me.

She protects me from harm, protects me from illness. But in doing so, she also protects me from her, building up a wall in between what was once us. Brick by brick. One brick a day, or was it one brick a week, a month, a year?

It doesn't matter. The quantity doesn't matter, and neither does the quality. It could be one shoddy, tiny, piece of rubble and it would still make everything different, would still signify an ever-growing rift between us.

If I was still who I once was, I would reach out to her right now. I would push back the strand of black hair hanging in front of her face. The movement would wake her up, and she would slowly open up her eyes and see me. She would smile, laugh, swat at my arms.

I would gently stroke her cheek, entwine my fingers in hers. Hold her steadily against me.

The natural comfort of an embrace.

Once upon a time, I held her in my arms and everything was as it should be.

She is still sleeping.

She is still beautiful.

But I am no longer who I was before.

I fall back into my dreams.

Okay, the awakenings are what I'm worried about. I want a kind of specific tone for these little introspective bits, and I don't think I'm hitting that mark.

Also I feel like I'm being kind of let down-ish since the awakenings are so short, but they take me so long to write. Ugh. Sorry, guys. I probably need a lot more practice writing these.

Don't forget to review and give me some criticism on this. Cause it's definitely not perfect D: