Her skin is traced with the lines of her true state of being.
The black ink is perfectly embedded into the flat state of skin above where her watch band rests and her wrist does not bend. Every fine line contains the story of the one closest to her, and every shadow casted upon her skin carries a part of him with her.
As she grazes her alternate hands across the silhouette the two of their hands have drawn across her skin, she is filled with the bittersweet feeling of unconditional love and security that each curve of their hands creates as the hand of her child self is wrapped around his finger in a way that allows her to hold it in the soft sport of her palm.
She is filled with the bittersweet feeling of home.
The feeling of knowing that every time she steps foot out of the house he is sitting, awake on the other side of the door, waiting for her name to light up his phone with the message that she is safe and where she needs to be.
Or knowing that the fear that fills her body at night when she is surrounded by any unfamiliar sound he will be there, without a complaint, to check under her bed and behind every door. He will check outside her windows and every square inch until her mind settles enough to a state of calmness.
When her urgency to walk caused her to fall—and sometimes she fell too hard—he was a step away from her waiting, with his arms out, to catch her before her breakable body met the dangers the ground held.
And something as simple as the feeling of safety he brings with the warmth of his arms wrapped around her, blocking out the midst of the chaos and the sound of the hecticness around her.
While at first the bond she has with the one who taught her how to live was once an excuse to permanently draw onto her skin, their hands together—that are perfectly placed on her lower arm—are what now reminds her of the parachute he has held above her in every moment of her life.
He was the first one to show her what it means to truly be loved and he has yet to allow her to fall short of this feeling. With being the most constant thing in her life, he continues to show her that although the thought of a life away from him seems so unlivable, she will never have to truly know how unlivable it may be.
She was once told never to alter the pureness of her skin with something that will bring regret, but for her, the fine lines of her dad’s hand around hers are what makes her who she is.
The best parts of her are because of him.
