Fight or Flight
She fell far away so fast. He saw her only when her steps were hastened and he was not able to catch up. He was still in the fight but she had chosen flight. He knew the let go was close, but not this close. She had been warding off the inevitable with her hopeful heart and sincere virtues, packing punches while he sat complacent.
He thought he knew her like he knew himself, familiar in smell, sight and sound. She knew him like a slow waltz with predictable steps and a tune that was easy to her ears. A three beat tremble on hard wooden floors, the theatre of their life.
In his mind she was in his arms, but the hollow alcove that lay next to him now began to fill with an empty loss. Nimble hands no more. Berry lips no more. Tangled limbs no more. In her arms no more. He lost the fight while she took flight and lay alone with a new lesson in love. Nobody was impervious to matters of the heart, not even him.