“And in the end, we were all just humans… Drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.”
– F. Scott Fitzgerald
There was a boat, and there were only small amounts of wind. the water was too cold and the air was barely salty enough, and we paused too long for lack of breeze. But, well, nothing worth anything ever happens without some amounts of interruption. There was music at night, my toes against his thighs. We walked and stood in line, we ate pastries and pasta in the wrong but ever-so-right order. At night, the dark knight appeared as well as so many questions in our fingers.
And, well, there was only one way to find out the answers.
It was more of an exhalation than an entire breath–
We were unprepared for it. but we folded it until it felt small in our hands and held it quietly in our mouths while exchanging questioning glances.
It felt too late. but really, it was exactly how i had hoped. it was gripping, the humor and the exaltation. no roof, stars, impatient water, interminable road, infinities that felt familiar, unbearably tangled hair, warm hands, muddy dashboard. And blue.
“If something anticipated arrives too late it finds us numb, wrung out from waiting, and we feel – nothing at all. The best things arrive on time.”
– Dorothy Gilman