Threads

There exists a thread between you and me.

It's very strong and resilient.
It has weathered misbehavior.
It has tolerated selfishness.

It has snagged in other places and yet continued to exist.
It has knotted up and become a holy mess.
Some threads are fraying with age.

Ah! But none of this has detracted from its strength.

It is much less flexible, but it's pull is strong.
It's no longer smooth and silky, but it binds us tight.

But a time shall come when you will finally snap this thread...
How will you do it then my love?
Shall it be a single vicious stroke that cuts the thread?
Or will you saw through it strand by strand?

What will be more agonizing? The wrench of you thrusting me away suddenly or the knowledge that you are separating us slowly but steadily?

I don't know my love what shall be easier for me, but you be sure to do what's easier for you.

I don't know my love how I will bear the loss when it comes, but you be sure that you cut through each strand.

I don't know my love what I shall do with my half of our thread, but you be sure that you destroy yours.

I don't know my love how often I shall caress my half of our thread, but you be sure to weave a new one.

I don't know my love how often I shall wrap around my body, my half of our thread, but you be sure to share your new one.