He held on to you. One night, when all he had was a hope and a sacrifice. When everything seemed to not fit into shape, when he was lost, he held on to you. You knew what to say. He said it straight. Love was all he could follow. All he can relate to.
When in these nights the lights go off, does he see anything but you? He held on to you like a wave. You drift him and turn him down. You keep his balance. You break and fix and prepare.
You were far, but you were here. He saw you in words. He planned stories for another day. You were far. Everyday made it worse. But you were here, he kept telling himself; you gave him all he never had, you completed him, does it matter how far? Or until when? You were here.
He thought of the time to come. He wrote you thoughts and worries. You said change won't take this away.
It was hard, it's still hard, not being with you. His hands have dried from the wind. Your arms they wrap him once in a while but all he feels is loss. You're leaving. Soon enough to want to let him go. Does it hurt? He had seen pain and agony. He had witnessed defeat and triumph. Will it hurt to let you go?
'I'll be fine' he thought. He packed his suitcase, headed back and forth, decided to wait, stood up again then moved on.