Something left behind

I have a friend who handed me a box, and in this box was everything dear to her about herself that she could not take care of anymore. Then, in that moment, the contents of the box were in my safe-place, a box with a door in front that I wore on my chest. When we were together the box could not keep itself shut, the contents would radiate so that the door of the box could not contain the contents, but otherwise the contents were safely closed up and warmly held in the box on my chest. When she beheld the contents radiating from the box I wore on my chest, it warmed her to be with everything dear to her about herself that she could not take care of anymore, but she did not recognize it was the contents of the box that she handed to me. You see, the contents became mixed with the contents of my safe-place box, everything dear to me about myself that I am learning to take care of now, and she liked the radiance but couldn't see that it was from her safe-place. Then one day I told her, it was her radiance and my radiance mixed together, and when she felt the truth of it, but before she could embrace it, she was overwhelmed by fear for its care. She held her hands over her eyes, and looked away, and left me with what is dear to her about herself that she could not take care of anymore. The contents of the safe-place box cried out for her return so it could spread its radiance again, and pulled the box off from my chest. I am holding the box, the glow is fading, but safe, and warming to the touch. You see, it loves her so much.

You are the air in my chest