I’ve heard that phrase but it never rang true until I was ****** and trampling down a path lined by trees and the sky was lit by the brightest moon I’ve seen. I was cooped up in a ball inside my head, carefully pulling on strings to move my limbs. He kept colliding into my side, each time I hoped it would catapult me somewhere else, but it only seemed to result in his hand on my shoulder. When we reached the black water rushing underneath the bridge, I wanted to sit and think of all the sleeping fish and imagine a big but friendly swampy monster, but instead hands on my back attempted to rub my knots out. Knots are better bitten and undone, ripped out, cut. But instead I sat hugging my knees with his **** hands attempting to untie me.
But I can’t be unraveled by a stranger. One time in a dream “unravel’ was tattooed on the back of my hand. It must’ve been a message from Jupiter or the Egyptian god Ra, or someone or something much wiser than I giving me advice I cannot even comprehend. But I like to think, that last night it meant that you’re the only one who can unravel me. With just one look from you, no hands necessary, I could be assured that the world was right. The moon isn’t meant to cast shadows, and firecrackers are not meant to explode underneath my feet. The world without you makes no sense. The world without you is a nightmare I can’t wake up from. The world without you hurts.