Red String (14/11/13)

It led to you.

I was so sure. I followed the string, blind and hopeful, and I thought it would end at your hand. I clutched at it and it slipped through my fingers and sliced my skin, but I gripped it tightly anyway, and I pulled myself towards you and climbed that cliff. I’m scared of heights but the thought of you kept me going, and I kept looking down and I knew I would end up at the bottom but I kept my grip tight and prayed for a helping hand. I wished so hard, I kept my eyes on you, and I never noticed the great knot in the string, the one that jammed my safety harness, and I wondered why I was stuck. It was only when the string frayed and I fell and broke my back that I saw you clearly, I saw you through eyes more open than ever, and I saw the remains of the knot and I understood. I’ll lie here for a while, while you call down to me and ask what’s wrong, but I won’t tell you, I’ll just pretend that I pulled a muscle and that it doesn’t hurt as much as it does. I’ll heal one day and I’m so glad that I never climbed that extra ten metres and got to you, because I know you’d push me off without even realising and I’d break so much more than just my back. We got our strings crossed, and I thought I was meant to follow mine to you, but now I see that it just got tangled with yours and it’s stretching far, far away into the distance and I can’t see the end.

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