Lost and found

Right now they are a huge part of my identity.

I’m lost in them, in every part of them.

They course through my pulse.

They are my pulse.

They are my reason.

And so often I talk of wanting space, to do things without all the extras that are currently required, to have the weight of only myself to carry.

But I’m all talk most of the time.

Because I feel so empty when they are not with me.

I feel like I’m missing a limb.

I’m completely out of sorts.

I’m not entirely myself when I’m by myself.

That’s what happens when you spend every waking hour with your people.

And they are my people.

My little people.

And their need for me is so strong.

But it’s such a mutual need right now.

The strongest one I’ve even know.

And by far the most beautiful one.

But it’s not going to last is it?

I won’t always be their first.

Sometimes I catch myself thinking about this.

And there’s a wave of sadness that washes over me.

And worry.

For them and for me.

I will always worry for them.

And what happens to me?

I’ll be a fish out of water, at least initially but probably for a long time.

I’ll need to find myself again.

A version which still has them coursing through my bones, but without them within inches of my skin.

My small handbag will replace the new empty space on my hip, and groceries will fill the new empty backseats in my car.

I’m not ready for that yet.

Clearly I’m so not ready.

And I don’t need to be just yet.

I know this.

BuI don’t think I ever will be.

I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to lose them a little and have to find myself completely again.