Be my Springboard

The way he wipes off my tears is very coarse. He spreads out his palm. While there is no cupping of his palm and the fingers, the whole of his palm seems to be wiping my eye. But he ensures that his palm extinguishes the pain of the eye it motions over. This action is almost always followed by a wholesome tightening of his hands around my face and into his chest. He has tried to smother me at times as well. I unequivocally prefer it over losing a second of that one embrace. 

"Use me as your springboard. You have your base. Jump off in the air. Fly. Float. Glide. You will not fall prey to gravity. Be the bird.", he says with conviction. I stare at his face blankly, knowing not what to say.  I feel astounded by the idea of freedom just afforded to me. "Go off, but you are not allowed to leave!", I bite my lips at the ring of the irony of his words yet again while my head hangs and tears walk from my eyes.