09.11.2017
You sit next to me with our shoulders touching and the night sky shining upon us. It's far too cloudy and far too bright for us to see any stars but I think we are okay with no stars in the sky.
We don't have to worry about all of those awkward dates and toiling to be in a relationship right? We are okay with us just liking each other. Relationships are too much work, too much pressure. A chase right?
You might read this, I am taking the risk. I really like you and I like us. There are things you don't know, things I rarely (never) speak of. A deeper part of me. I want you to know that but also I don't. There are thoughts whirling in my head but I smile for you are next to me and it's okay. Whatever I am feeling, whatever I am thinking, everything is okay. It's already been 2 hours now, we got to go home right? We walk towards the parking lot. You hug me. It happened way too fast. I think I closed my eyes. Isn't that what you are supposed to do? I remember feeling your arms around me and I could feel my arms around you. It felt good. Safe. Okay.
I remember smiling the whole way back and almost forgetting that I am driving (I know bad habit, sorry). I feel safe in this temporary home of ours; we aren't staying here forever though because we don't like permanency. It can be permanent, I am not ruling that possibility out, yet. It feels good to not have the pressure of wanting to make it work.
There is something about you, something so ineffable and so distinctive, something that makes you you. I like that something. I don't know you though, not yet, not completely and it's okay. You are intrepid and you aren't scared of life, not like me. You are beautiful in the most real way possible. I like the way you smile looking at the ground, the way you nervously touch your hair sometimes and the way you embrace awkwardness. I could go on forever but some things and some moments don't need to be detailed, they are just meant to be lived.
I know it's fleeting away, whatever this is between us, I know that its fading and disappearing into a dark nothing. I think I am just going to stay here for a while anyways, take it in while it lasts.
YOU ARE READING
Sillage
General Fiction"There's a word for it, (...) in French, for when you have a lingering impression of something having passed by. Sillage. I always think of it when a firework explodes and lights up the smoke from the ones before it." -Robyn Schneider Cover credit...
