i loved you only a little, because it is much easier to manage smaller quantities of things. i loved you in parts, because it is less risky to do anything in parts rather than all at once. the wholeness is too much to gamble, too much to lose.
i risked some things, and hedged with others. i crept out and made small fires when i could, but poured water everywhere before the fire could spread. i ran inside caves for warmth instead.
when i discovered chances to stay, i looked for escape. i ran in the directions that took me farthest away from you. this touching, in the air. i waited, breathless, for your hands to follow mine.
we both watched each other, circling, waiting.
when watching a mirror, no one makes the first move.