Footprints

'People need your love the most when they appear to deserve it the least.'

He stands there, staring at me; his eyes pleading with me, begging me to understand, to believe, to trust, to not stop loving, to never stop loving.

But I do not see. I cannot see. My own eyes are not on his, not looking at him, and my mind refuses to understand, to believe, to trust. My eyes are fixed on his forearm. The Dark Mark stands out, like some black plague, against his pale, creamy skin: skin that was once flawless, unblemished, perfect.

My soul howls and my heart cries out in agony at seeing something so vile, so ugly, upon something that I used to love so much - something I still love so much.

My head screams at me to condemn him and be done with it, to walk away and begin to heal, to leave behind the betrayal of a lifetime and try to disregard the gaping hole that would be left where once there was his face, his love, his laughter - him.

My heart begs me to stay.

'Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart. To handle yourself use your head; to handle others use your heart.'

So I do.

My eyes hesitantly sweep up to meet his own; I have always trusted my heart, but I was afraid, this time - afraid I had been wrong about him.

But when my emerald orbs meet his storm grey ones, I am stunned by the pure, unadulterated need reflecting in them; a need for me to understand, to forgive, to love.

Never have I seen such intensity, not from anyone - especially not from him.

"Why?" I manage to choke out, torn between walking away, not wanting to hear his excuses, and staying, taking him into my arms and never letting him go.

And in the end, my heart wins; I choose to stay.

His eyes continue to plead with mine for something that words cannot adequately express; begging me to listen - to really listen - to what his words cannot say - do not know how to say, but his heart bleeds to tell me.

"Because I love you," is all he says. But I know: I see it in his eyes.

My heart understands what my mind does not.

'Just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to, doesn't mean they don't love you with everything they have.'

I used to think he didn't love me, because loving me meant being by my side. He had joined my greatest enemy - he could not have loved me. I was wrong.

He joined them because he loved me - to keep me safe, to protect me, to take away my only weakness.

As I gaze into those silver pools, shining with honesty and love and a thousand other emotions I cannot put a name to, I finally understand.

He did it for me. He did it all for me.

And I believe, trust, and love - never stopped loving.

I never forgave. There was nothing to forgive.

I reach out a hand out to him, smiling, not saying a word. No words need to be said as he pulls me to him, wrapping me up in the embrace that my body has craved for all the time we have been apart. As he kisses me, my soul sings and my spirit soars.

I am home.

'A true friend is someone who reaches for your hand and touches your heart.'

Finite Incantatum