I’m telling you, it’s the universe. Don’t you see? It’s conspiring against us. It’s making us do things that we were sworn not to do. How about we take a big gulp of air and let it all slide away? I know right? If it was only that easy. It’s pretty fucking ironic that we are in this sort of position. You and me? Me and you?
No matter how much I try to roll it with my tongue, it seems so scandalous. Like an apocryphal malicious afterthought. Those two? What a joke, right? They probably know better than the two of us. If they caught us sharing the same two feet of space with more than just animosity and contempt, isn’t it such an absurd notion?
But the thing is. The thing is. I can’t even begin to think. Normally, I can just book it. Run and hide. That’s what they taught me. And if that wasn’t the wisest advice anyone has told me, then I don’t know fuck. This is beyond my control. It’s a stupefyingly scary feeling that we are letting this happen without putting any resistance. This has disaster written all over it.
It’s heady. Everything about this is cloyingly saccharine. A jolt. It’s electric. It could be all in our heads. But I can’t seem to stop remembering how your heart spiked when I enclosed your body against mine. It’s dangerously easy. If we could get away with this. I won’t even blink and let my desires run hot.
But it’s the universe you see. She’s such a sly little liar. She gives us these moments with empty promises of tomorrow. A drug designed to lose our sensibilities until it’s too late to pedal back down to reality. Our memories. Our lives. All flickers down to some sorry excuse of a test.
If that’s all it is. Then, so be it. We have our photographs. We have our lives entwined in this particular fabric of time. Whatever it is. Whatever happens, we have our song recorded in eternity.