Yours Truly [h.s.]

6

Days bled into weeks, bled into months, and before I knew it, it had been a year since Grandma passed. A year off to work had become another year to take care of Grandma had become two years tinged with grief and confusion, swimming in an endless, murky sea. Sludge and dirt. Oil spill damage clinging desperately to my wings. Severing any chance I had at flight.

Maybe that's why I could never give you a place to fly to.

"Chickadee, if you could take flight, where would you go?"

"Wherever Grandma is."

Harry was my rock for what felt like forever; my anchor. Enough to keep my feet planted in the soil and my head attached to my neck. Without him, I'm not sure where I would've ended up - somewhere with a broken wing and a bruised heart. He woke me up gently every morning with a sprinkling of kisses dashed on my hairline, the warmth of his body melting around my ice sculpture.

Everything just felt cold. Distant and dull and cold. Like I was trudging through the motions in the middle of a blizzard. I'd go to work, put on a brave face with the kids, and come back to Harry's, only to dissolve into the couch, my mind empty and full at the same time. Thoughts screaming, ricocheting around in my brain, but the words vanishing into thin air. Harry was always home before me, with water, a blanket, a snack, a kiss. Anything he could do in a desperate attempt to fill me back up. To flood wind under my wings. To drown me in love.

Every single night ended with a kiss to my cheek and a palm cradling my face. A whisper of, "forever and always," like a breath of air dusting over my skin.

Forever and always.

Sometimes it felt like the pain was what was going to be forever and always.

...Maybe it will be.

Those months turned into a vacant blur, void of feelings, void of color, void of much of anything. I refused the birds; turned my back on them entirely. Only sitting at the window to pine for a single flash of red feathers that rarely came. But when they did...god when they did. They triggered the dam opening up, letting the flood waters unleash their wrath. One glimpse of a cardinal and I was inconsolable, wailing and fisting at pillows, or the couch, or Harry's chest. Pitiful, painful little hits - just enough movement to keep my entire body from locking up.

"Chickadee, shh, I'm right here, I've got you." Harry soothed, holding my body close, my arms pressed firmly against him.

I felt like a wounded animal, trapped and scared. The gentle touch was nearly searing, a strange mix of comfort and pain that had me wanting to both soften into it and fight against it. I couldn't help but let out a strangled cry that only made me feel even more raw, like every last instinct was screaming for survival. My fists kneaded against Harry's abdomen, trying desperately to feel something real.

"Dove," he pulled away, a gust of air chilling my cheek as it was left exposed, "You've gotta calm down for me, okay? You're scarin' me."

A pathetic whimper poured from my lips, the rest of my body falling loose as Harry reached down to grab onto my hands, digging into my clenched fists to intertwine our fingers together instead.

I'm not sure how you managed to bring me back down to earth every single time. No matter how far in the galaxy I drifted, you were always able to reel me back in.

Thank you for it. And by 'it', I mean all of it.

Harry had guided me into his room once my limbs were able to move, a hand firmly magnetized to the small of my back. He laid down first, motioning me into bed beside him. And, of course, I was quick to obey, crawling towards the tidal wave of cotton and pine and Harry.