He soaks in her love, lets it wash over him, fill him. No one can love you the way someone that's drifted with you can. There's an intimate knowledge and a sharing that's impossible to match. When it was the three of them -
it comes. That feeling of loss. That emptiness where instead of three there are only two. He doesn't mean to interject it - but the thought was already formed and in the drift there's no hiding it. Yancy should be here too.
He's learned though and he catches that wave of irreplaceable. He knows how to ride it now, even if its so much stronger inside the drift and he offers his hand, mentally if not physically to Gipsy. Missing Yancy isn't something he's afraid to feel anymore, for the longest time he was but now there's a sweetness that weaves through the bitter. A love that feels stronger despite the loss. He doesn't shy away from it, letting it come instead and reaching out to Gipsy in their close connection because -
it's all right The pulse of Yancy that comes out of him isn't those last seconds. It's a childhood memory, a Christmas morning, a red bike under the tree, skinned knees and his older brother's pride when he'd finally taught Raleigh to ride it. Intentional he slips it over into the first time the three of them came together and the confusing wonderful mess they'd all made of it. As clear as his voice, soft and sure, he wraps Gipsy in the feel of his healing and his heartache and the fact that
no subject
it comes. That feeling of loss. That emptiness where instead of three there are only two. He doesn't mean to interject it - but the thought was already formed and in the drift there's no hiding it. Yancy should be here too.
He's learned though and he catches that wave of irreplaceable. He knows how to ride it now, even if its so much stronger inside the drift and he offers his hand, mentally if not physically to Gipsy. Missing Yancy isn't something he's afraid to feel anymore, for the longest time he was but now there's a sweetness that weaves through the bitter. A love that feels stronger despite the loss. He doesn't shy away from it, letting it come instead and reaching out to Gipsy in their close connection because -
it's all right The pulse of Yancy that comes out of him isn't those last seconds. It's a childhood memory, a Christmas morning, a red bike under the tree, skinned knees and his older brother's pride when he'd finally taught Raleigh to ride it. Intentional he slips it over into the first time the three of them came together and the confusing wonderful mess they'd all made of it. As clear as his voice, soft and sure, he wraps Gipsy in the feel of his healing and his heartache and the fact that
We can be okay now