Right now we said our reluctant good byes. Prolonged what Time could gives us. As if he had
name like Reemus.
We lie there, screen to screen. Eyes transfixed on the other. Sharing everything. Silence and chatter.
We prolonged for as much as we could. Even with a promise of later. We have to get going, cause reality is ringing.
Every time we talk, it's as if everything fades. Maybe it's just us. Maybe it's a gift, like a tiny Reemus
Either way, I smile listening to you chatter.
Maybe there's an 'us' even if there's a gap. But that's just it, I think of 'us' even if things go bitching like reality and Reemus.
YOU ARE READING
The What Ifs
Non-FictionI lie here now in my bed, thinking whether to procrastinate now during a Sunday or be the 'better' person.
