Until the day we are forgotten
The day I don’t want to be without you anymore is the first day we are no longer together.
This is what I’ve decided and yet I wish the future would be different right now. All of the words we have said would have brought us to this point. There are no but’s, no maybe’s, no more questions. There’s no going back because there is no road to travel on.
We stopped asking each other questions about the course of our days and suddenly they seem a lot more boring than before. Our days end in silence, surrounded by the question of whether we are still allowed to wonder what the other person is doing, and at the same time not wanting to know. Each step we take will come up in fewer conversations until all the words are gone and we can’t even confirm where we have been.
My mind is creating its own ideas on how you are spending your day while I’m in the same spot I always was while talking to you on the phone. Your evenings are more exciting than ever, your connections with others deeper, your laugh is louder.
We will start telling our stories to new strangers, occasionally dropping an unknown name without them knowing the impact of their presence, and forever unable to measure it. The days will pass while the emptiness is replaced by new encounters, different faces. Until we forget the sound of each other’s voice and stop longing to ask questions about the course of our day.
The biggest pitfall is wanting to know how long you can miss someone and having the fear that it will be eternal. Because it is here, at this moment, with no prospect of it going to pass.
All I can do is wait and tell myself there will be days I won’t be creating any imaginary versions of the steps you take. Perhaps these days will happen without my knowledge.
Because that’s the way it goes, gradually, until I forget that I have forgotten you