When your heart stops, there are 7 minutes of brain activity left. 420 seconds, in which you relive your best moments. Everyone sees different things: Some their first kiss, while some see a poolside party from their 17th year.
Me? I saw you. I saw the shimmer of your eyes when I laughed. And your silhouette from our many midnight walks.
6 minutes left.
The way you flicked your hair when it got in your eyes.
5 minutes left.
The way you watched me when I danced you were in a trance. Totally and utterly oblivious to the rest of the world. And those adorable dimples that complimented your smile so well.
4 minutes left.
The way you would play with my hair to wake me up. Even though you knew I hated it. Come back and play with my hair.
3 minutes left.
The steps we slowly made our way down at 3 a.m to sit on the beach and drink the night away.
2 minutes.
The glass from all the bottles we smashed in our arguments, all crushed over the ground falling like a thousand diamonds.
1 minute.
It's quite sad, we were nearly happy.
Zero.
