Nomad.

We go through life blind, feeling our way along walls; guided by hands that feel warm but dangle the threat of going cold and leaving us lost at any time. And they do. Some go too far and get lost themselves; some simply grow tired of the feel or grow coarse with the weight of long travels.

The ones that are most comforting are those that never grow weary; the ones that are always soft and welcoming through winter, spring, fall and summer. With them, we feel as though we are not lost, walking together without compass or direction; content to embrace things as they may come.

There will always be breaks in the embrace; moments where the hands slip or stumble; moments where the infinity of the world seems more comforting to one than the other.
We walk these paths separately and confidently, only realizing in falling that the other was right beside us to catch us before we touch ground.

And we walk together again.