We get here alone and leave alone too. Along the way, if we’re lucky enough, we’ll touch and be touched. How many doesn’t matter, but how deep does. Sometimes the touch lasts a moment. If we’re really lucky, the touch remains until the last breath. Touching nurtures, and being touched makes a heart beat faster and stronger. It seems natural that we’d know the feeling of touch, but it’s often overlooked or ignored.
I have someone who touches me deeply, and I know it will last. At times the pressure is light, but it’s always there. When I feel vulnerable or veer off the path, her touch helps me rebound. As years pass, I’m more prone to a second guess, missing that arrogance I once thought defined me. Or lose confidence, a trait I once had more than my share of. Then, at the right time and for just the perfect amount of it, she touches me.
Deb is my support system. She’s my muse, and my teacher. Deb touches me with inspiration and breathes life into me when I’m faint. She’s my fountain for wisdom, my cut man when I’m fighting a tough battle, and the only one who can make me drop the gloves and move on. Deb is all of this and more to me. For me.
I live a life more public than many. And also let the world look at me through windows I keep open. I’m past the point of being overexposed; It’s all out there for people to read. But I rarely let folks behind the last few curtains I want kept closed.
Sometimes I play this game that I’m a loner, a rebel. There’s a lotta things about me you don’t know anything about. Things you wouldn’t understand. Things you couldn’t understand. Things you shouldn’t understand. But those who know me, I mean truly know me, know about Deb. They know how Deb pushes me and leads me all at once. Now you too know.
If one wonders why it’s so simple to walk on water, just think about where the rocks are. Deb is that rock, those rocks, my rock. She’s the reason why I don’t fall in. Deb is my best friend, confidant, and mentor. Deb touches me, and my heart beats.
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