By Candice Triche
She has my face; I grab her hands, sweaty and small. I looked to her for so long to be my guide, leading me blind to a place of her choosing. She got lost a long way back and she’s been winging it. As I look into those eyes, I see...I see she’s still trying to be assured, resilient, as confident as a young girl of her age can attempt to be. I was never really sure myself, which brought me to this point of reliance. I looked to her for all things, no matter her lack of experience. Heavy things I let fall on her shoulders, she convinced me she was strong to hold. It’s the eyes, the eyes have it.
I take her hand, sweaty and small and lead her to sit with me. As we look upon a dark nothing that is our journey, I squint to see further out.
“What can you see?,” she asks.
“I see light, but the darkness consumes it so, I can’t tell how close it is,” I say.
“You can’t leave me here alone,” she says.
That was never the plan.to leave her here. At least not forever. But what I’ve grown to depend on was her, her youthful ignorance, growing curiosity or was it that she was too young to grab hold of life’s seriousness? A certain ignorant bliss that clouds the mind of clear judgment to make the challenge palpable, easier to manipulate to our liking. Her great fervor was present always, I craved to be that. Holding on to her gave me a sense of confidence, not needing to share my truth...but hers. I realize she is too young to know, really. Too young to let make these significant choices in our lives.
“I won’t leave you here. You can come with me,” I say
“As we make our way, I must request your silence. I request your trust to let me lead the way from this first step we take together.”
“I can’t promise I will not ask for your strength or love when I need it, when I do, please place your hands in mine and let me continue to lead our way.”
“You are after all, me. I cannot find anyone better to give me the unconditional love I crave. I cannot find anyone better to let me be, than myself. We will finish this journey as one.”
She grabs my hands, sweaty and small. As we stand to progress, I smile. I can’t tell how close we are but we go. I go.
Candice Triche is a writer residing in Chicago. She writes for BGIO for expression and to realize the connection of all the men and women in our community. Being a single mother in the city, she’s finding ways to maintain her peace and build a strong foundation and confidence to be her best on her personal journey. You can find her on her blog and on Instagram (@candylocs).