Two Hugs

In one day, there were two hugs.
One said "good-bye" and one said "welcome".
I am afraid of which one will eat me up inside the most.
Tossing and turning in my sleep, I wake up and wonder, "Was it the same for you?"
There was a strange brief moment of letting go where I fell back into him.
Then as I let go for the long good-bye I felt like I was shaking on the inside.
I wanted to ask you, "Was it the same for you? Did it shake you up like it did to me?"
So close to you, I could reach out and touch your face, but I didn't.
Reliving the past through my words, I tried to paint you the sad picture in my heart.
I wanted you to see me, and for a moment I really believed that you did.
Has anyone ever looked at me like that? I think it never happened before.
Then one day, it happened twice.

Are you waiting for me to fall apart, so that you can pick up the pieces?
Do you see me for the fragile paper doll that I am, floating along and slowly dissolving into nothing...
or do you see me as a warrior?

At last...
I wanted to gently whisper your name, and hear the quiet answer, "yes?"
But I knew I would say, "Nevermind," as one of us walked away.

On one hand we said all that we could in the last hug, which was the first that day.
Then I wondered if a phantasm had grasped me by the heart as I walked away at the end of the evening at last.

It's funny how logic can slip past my mind and tempt me to abandon it even if just to turn back for a moment.

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