Do you ever just feel like you're losing someone, and all you can do is sit there and watch it happen? It's like having a conversation. Suddenly, you look up to realize that the other person has backed two feet away from you. You can still reach out and and brush his cheek, you can still see every feature of his face, you can even continue that conversation... but you've lost the connection. You've lost that electricity that you had with him when he was in your arms, or just a couple steps away.
So, unfazed, you take a step forward. You try to continue that conversation; inching forward, inching back into his life. And right when you get back into the meat of your conversation, and you're telling him a funny story from when you were a kid, adamantly waving your hands and your lost in your own words, you look up and see that he's two feet away again. And it hurts even more the second time. So you decide hey, maybe I'll stay put this time. Or maybe instead of inching forward, I'll take a step back. Then he'll see.
And all of a sudden, you're four feet away. And then eight. And you keep moving back until you're too far to have a conversation, let alone feel the warmth of each other's skin. Too far to feel his lips on your forehead or the weight of his arm on your shoulder. All you've got is the silhouette of his body. If you squint, you might be able to make out the bridge of his nose, or the line of his jaw. But you can't reach him, where you are. And you find yourself thinking back to those two feet, and how big they once seemed. And you know things can never be the same.
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