Snap Snap

The scissors are sitting there in front of my face. I remember when I put them down so many months ago. Tying each and every string tighter and tighter so that I knew we would never be apart. I watched as we wrapped ourselves into them and laughed happily as they engulfed our bodies. We never thought that they were intoxicating, but we knew they were slowly and surely growing. What started off as just one became great in numbers. The strength of the strings were weak, but together, they held on strong. He couldnt see it, but my hand was always free behind my back, reaching into the cookie jar when he wasnt paying attention and always ready to start cutting if need be. I knew that the sound of the strings snapping into pieces would hurt because they were attached to our hearts along with ropes. Loving each other kept the strings alive. My free hand made sure they stayed loose. One day, I started untying them, thinking that maybe being tied up with him was not where I needed to be. We fussed. We tossed. We loved. We cried. As time went on, they fell one after another. Only I could see that the strings were disappearing, but I knew I couldnt get rid of the ones tied to my heart that easily. His voice was heartbreaking when I told him the strings were disappearing. He couldnt understand that I was still attached to him. My love for him is not on a string, but my heart is anchored with many ropes wrapped and double knotted in ways I dont understand. My mind wonders to him. My love for him makes me long for him. Thoughts of his intimacy occassionally cloud my brain. Remembrance of his affection intrude my senses from time to time. Still in my dreams is he. The scissors won't be enough for the task at hand, so the knife that I'm cutting with is expected to work. As the first rope falls to the floor, the pain is felt, but it goes away at a steady pace. I push away the rope that's cut  trying to forget the strings that are gone. As the tears come and go, as sleepless nights come and leave, as memories replay and disappear, the cutting must continue...the detachment is what we both is waiting for.