After the love we lay smoking in bed, you flicking your ash in the hole in my chest where my heart should have been. The television, at that moment still unbroken, its screen still intact, lit the room in forever changing light.
I watch the shadows dance across the smooth skin of your thigh, your leg draped across mine, as I think back to that very first time, remembering the sounds of our breathing as we lay in the long grass high above your town, our beads of perspiration drying in the summer sun as we stared at each other and smiled, just smiled, because no words were needed or desired.
I would not know it yet, but this would be the image I would think of on my deathbed, using the long drawn out hours to press my face against the veil of my fading memory.
“We should do something,” you say, breaking the spell.
“Hmmm….What should we do?”
“Oh I don’t know...maybe we should go away somewhere, just the two of us?”
I think about us, the two of us, and think about where somewhere might be.
“I mean, don’t you get bored, sometimes? Bored of this house, this city, the same routine, the same people? Don’t you ever want to see something new?”
“Sure,” I offer, suddenly confused. “A holiday would be nice.”
“I’m not talking about a holiday,” you say. “I’m talking about leaving, getting out, going away and not coming back. Just walking out of the door and leaving all this behind, start anew somewhere else, somewhere different.”
I often replay the words that came next, turning them over in my mind and making them different, making me different. I understand now. Time, reimagined. Redone. I reshape our fates in a different mould.
Did I understand what you were saying at the time, but buried it, scared as I was to leave? Or has regret warped my sense of memory? Regardless, I think about seeing you again.
An accidental meeting at a gas station on a long drive. A familiar voice behind me in a queue at the store. Walking into a restaurant on the coast to see you sitting there, laughing again.
Wrapped in the threads that bind us and the moments we shared, I rehearse my apology often
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