The Anatomy of Letting You Go

Part One:

The Hands

The day you first held my hand you laughed in shock

"Your hands are so cold."

Then you smiled and brought my fingers to your lips. Warm breath fanned across my fingers.

My heart skipped a beat, and my freezing fingers began to thaw.

In that moment I vowed I'd never let you go. You'd have to be pried from my

Cold
       
            Dead
                 
                          Hands.

And in a way, you were.

The day you left my hands fell to my sides empty, and soon the cold set in.

Your hands weren't there to keep mine warm.

And I felt dead. Lifeless.

You pried your hand from mine and I had no choice

But
    
       to

             let
            
                    it
              
                          go.

I wear gloves now. But my hands are still cold.