Hold me, she says, because I don’t know if I can hold on to myself anymore. The pieces are pulling apart and fading before I can reach them. I’m petrified. I’m losing myself but do you know what’s even worse? I’m losing you in the process. So please just hold me tight.
So he holds her until she doesn’t know whose limbs are whose anymore and all sensations become one. Her body burns at the prolonged skin to skin contact but she holds on as the ache in her heart, in her mind, is worse. Eventually their stream of consciousness entwines and there’s no his or hers anymore; just them. And she feels the fragmanted pieces of herself slowly knit themselves together as the night stretches on and blends to morning.