Somewhere along the way, you started throwing little pieces of yourself like a trail of breadcrumbs for them to follow. They stood far behind the trailing, calling to you and warning you that there was only danger to come if you kept on blazing. But you continued to dice yourself into bits and throw them behind you, never stopping to heed the warning they were trying to give you. You gave away more than you could spare and more than they asked for, but somehow it seemed appropriate to give them every square inch of yourself. The idea of being someone’s something left you reeling and breathless. They caught the breath that you lost and placed it in your hand. They told you they were not worth a single gasp lost and they wanted you to have it. What they didn’t understand was that they were more to you than the tightness in your chest. They were the release of a full lung. They were your deep breath in, slow exhale out. You thought they were your saving grace, because you hadn’t yet realized you could breath on your own.