Hand In Hand Through The Mines

We.

Step by step we walk. We walk over the minefield called life. Some patches are lighter than others, yet still, we have to be aware of the explosives beneath us all the time. Just one failure can cause death and elimination. And we don’t want that.
We. How quickly I got used to say We instead of I. Our paths through the mines went parallel for some time. But only just recently, our paths crossed. We met. We grabed each other by the hand. And off we went.
We can’t recall the time we went on our own now. And we don’t want to. Everything got so much easyer since we joined forces. Balance, big steps and distance is much less troubeling, now that we have four legs. The extra two pockets are a bonus, too. Granted, we had to learn to read the map with just five fingers each, but we figured it out. We had to.
Because we can’t let go of each other. We have to prevent the other from falling, from outrunning, from slacking and, most important, we hold one hand, so it wont hurt the other one in an attempt to escape this endless march of danger. And we don’t want that. Not that way.
Four eyes see more mines than two. Still, there are days where one pulls the other out of a fatal step. Without the hand holding me I would have been dust many times. Vise versa.
One might say we take each other for granted. And that’s true. We take us for granted, not because we are selfish, but because we are scared of even imagining it different. Taking the other for granted is our way of cherrishing each other. By letting such a foolish but hopeful idea occure on our minds, we show the safety and optimisme we give each other. There are mines next to our feet and we take things for granted. Isn’t that rich?
There was a time we spoke. But we stopped ever since we realized that our minds were linked. We know the way we think. We calculate every step the same. We know how to walk with the legs of the other. Sometimes we even joke around by planting a step that wasn’t calculated. We don’t say anything, we just know what the other just did and laugh about it. We think alike. We walk alike. We joke alike.
And we dream alike. By the time we met, I thought I was the only one wanting the best for the other. I dreamed of a land for you, where no traps slumber beneath our feet, where we can run freely with empty minds, where we can build a town and call it home, without the nagging anxiety that comes with each and every step. But by the time we started talking I learned that you dream so too. And then we stopped talking. Because we think alike. Because we walk alike. Because we joke alike. Because we dream alike.
But we know about the corner. The corner in our mind that produces the bad, the fear, the anxiety. We both have this corner, and it’s telling us the same thing: What if.
What if there is no such place.
What if someone else is already there.
What if someone else already planted deadly steps there.
What if we already walked past that field that has been planted with explosives and we nearly died there.
What if we died there. What if we died here.
What if we died right here, right now.
Simultaniously we grab each others hand harder. Because we know we think alike. We know we walk alike. We know we joke alike. We know we dream alike. And, most of all, we know we fear alike.
And that’s why we go on. Because we want to prove the fears wrong. For the other one. For us.
And thus, we went on.