Laughing. Leaving. Waiting. Out of Time.

“We need, in love, to practice only this: letting each other go. For holding on comes easily; we do not need to learn it.” 
― Rainer Maria Rilke

We survived the world, over-thinking our confusions decisions promises bound to make mistakes, brave enough to risk making them. We went through adrenaline rushes, blood-racing kind of fragile moments knowing they would end up badly but doing them anyway. Dreams of becoming catchers in the rye, opening up in front of the fire place becoming annoying laughing leaving waiting. Too excited to sleep, too tired to get up and listen to other people’s expectations, unable to hear our own fire. Building up our plans, embarrassed of lowering our standards when life was turning out to be all just about getting along with someone, changing our minds, getting too clingy, too harsh, trying to be strong. Thinking of the way someone touched us how powerful it was how important it seemed at the time how selfish we were how human we were.

Past 3 in the morning, lights gleaming on objects, things non-existent – breasts, hips, her cheeks as she used to smile when I called her a “good girl”. I felt numb while letting moments like those go, moved on to someone else, memorizing only smooth body shapes and flaws until another sleepless November night kept me up and left me nothing but foolishly reminiscing, rooted in a spot, conscious of the transience of everything, secretly wanting to be chased until eternity to get her only for tonight, only for a last night. That night, the world couldn’t be too small for two, at least two shadows with the gleam on her white skin, I’d watch her, have her, send her out then go back to my things, my phone, my glass, my wide eyes and someone else.

The good night sleep never came to me any more, distant sun rays reflecting on random dark shades. She could be jumping out of her flip-flops right now, wet before even touching the water, I’d hold her bag while she gets ready for the beach knowing that this beautiful and so trivial world of ours would eventually get small; I’d watch it degrade, I’d watch her feet in the sand.

But there was only the noise of the city, haunting exhaling scream of the future we always believed to be so certain, the moments we could have if we decided to, the people we let go of, assertive we could always have back. We held on to the aloneness of our small rooms, the strangers in our king-sized beds, the over-crowded clubs, the nothing and the everything but missing the real the good the life.

Lights breaking through the window, it’s way too early for a sunrise, quiet streets of a world that isn’t sad, it’s just big. The sunrise resembles the sunset, I’m out of time.

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