I tried so hard to hang on, I bled inside. The pain of seeing her tagged and flagged with hearts and flowers and dancing girls on social media in parties I will never be invited to, with the shots and the hot tubs and the linguine vongole seaside…when the fact of the matter is,
I am already there. She feels me rush through her, like the wind through her sunlit baby hair, alone on that bridge, debating whether to jump or fly, laugh or cry. I am the random thought that strikes her in the middle of everything, and nothing at all, and all she can do is be quiet, and smile, and wish she were with me.
She and I are love, entwined in this Gordian Knot.