I carry the burden of your secrets lodged in my chest, beloved. Every torment, every nightmare, every misery, I’ve locked them all safely away behind flesh and bone. Some nights the weight of these secrets drags me down so heavily I can only crawl to bed and curl around your pain, arms wrapped tight as if in holding myself I can somehow embrace you as well. The sob choking my throat isn’t mine but tears fall nonetheless. Would it ease my own ache, I wonder, if someone else knew these secrets as well? If even once you woke from a night terror and admitted to the man at your side just why you can’t stand to be touched after those dreams? Or if I could crawl into someone else’s arms and find the words to describe the images in my head, the sorrow in my breast, the muscle memory which makes my fingers twitch and my body fold in on itself? I made you a promise long ago but dearest, darling, lovely, it’s so hard, and I’m so tired.


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