Friday, March 7, 2008
My palms grabbed his forearm, three inches below his elbows.
I wasnt struggling to hold. I wasnt slipping off. I wasnt having a hard time. But I am thinking. Thoughts came rushing to my mind.
"What if i let go?"
"What if my hand wasnt clinging to his?"
"What would it be like?"
I was thinking of letting go. Several times I wanted to. But I cant. It seems like my jpalms were glued - no - it was more like cemented to his arms. And i thought, I was struggling more to free my hands from his arms rather than cling on.
. . . .
. . . . .
. . . . . .
I dont like struggling. I hate that feeling. Why would i choose to struggle when its possible not to?
So i thought.
Stop struggling. Just let it slip off. One day the cements going to weaken. Sweats from both our arms will make my hands slip from his. Slowly.
Then another thought came to my mind.
"would i really want that?" "Is it right to look forward to that event?"
"if that time comes, wont i be struggling? - strugling to cling on?"