The Weight of It
by Jules
· 05/03/2026
Published 05/03/2026 17:45
She didn't wake. Not when I lifted her
from the backseat, not the whole walk
from the driveway to the door.
Her breath against my neck.
One arm finding my collar in her sleep
without trying, without knowing.
She was heavier than I expected.
That was the thing I couldn't shake —
the full weight of someone
who has no idea they're being carried.
Both hands loose at her sides.
No bracing for the ground.
I walked so slowly.
Eased the door open with my shoulder.
Set her down on the couch.
She made a sound — the going-under kind —
and pulled her knees toward her chest.
I stood there longer than I needed to.
The warmth of her head already leaving my shoulder.
The room the same as it always is.
Three days and I keep coming back to it —
not the tenderness, exactly,
though there was that.
More the specific weight of someone
who hasn't learned to withhold themselves yet.
Who just — gave it all to me.
Without deciding.
The arms will hold or they won't.
She didn't wonder.