Something I submitted for a writing contest. Just wanted to put something on the blog. Its been forever, Im so terrible. I vow to blog more. Again. Sheesh.
I sit on my doorstep on the last night of us, waiting to hear your familiar shuffle up the pathway, for you to tell me your goodbye story. While I wait in the chilled air, I smoke the worst cigarette of my existence. Each long and exaggerated inhale was like a last gasp of us: cancerous and foul, but requisite in taking the edge off the ticking clock of our relationship.
If only I could push the hands back. Pull time to a better place and a cleaner chapter in our book. Before life made it such a mess. Back to when we met and felt superior and indestructible in the way that only new lovers can.
So naive, isn’t it, that we felt holding hands would protect our love from the rest of them. Simple loves might fall and break too easily in the wind, but not us. No, our love would bend and sway. It would learn to lean with the storms rather than snap.
We made castles in our bed sheets that even fabled kings would envy. Guitar in hand, you wrote songs about my name, and ate everything I burned while playing house, all with your beautiful smile. We had everything we needed.
Then again, the minute people fall in love they become liars.
When it feels as though one more pull of my cigarette may burn my lungs right up, I hear the familiar drag of your shoes and my stomach falls.
We are here. Our time is up. I can’t wind back the hands on that clock, regardless of how much I long to.
“So this is it”, they say. It feels like we are here in this spot every time “it” is spoken.
This is always the clearest moment, right before your face turns black, and my eyes lock their gates back up. The moment where I feel you might be whole, and fit in just where that piece of me is missing. Only for a moment.
Didn’t we have it all? Couldn’t we again? Weren’t our entwined fingers stronger than everyone else’s?
Perhaps it’s just the rush of excitement, the fear of the unknown tomorrows coming our way, but for an instant you and I can lock our gazes on one another and forget about being tangled in life. Then, afraid of the intimacy that just danced between us I look down at my feet and feel the moment pass us. I don’t want to be another broken heart in the whispers of your songs anymore. For you and I, as we both have learned, have the greatest ability to break one another as only kindred can.
And then we turn cold, and say those familiar lines.
How did it get so backwards?
And I almost want to cry