Gossamer

Let it be known that he was everything I wasn't. If he was burlap, I was lace. If he was an oak tree, I was a sapling. If he was a mountain, I was spun sugar, porcelain, the wings of a dragonfly. I would fall over with one touch and he was there to catch me or sew me back together, and he became so much more than just my crutch—he became my skeletal structure. We worked in sync—tough bones protecting a heavy heart pumping poisoned blood.

He never planned to be the one who saved me, but he learned that once you fall in love with a gossamer girl you’re going to do everything you can to keep her.

Oh, how he tried.