There are times when I wonder what other paths may have led me to you. If there was an alternate universe where we met earlier or later or met and then separated only to find each other again. But I know for certain that in every universe and on every timeline I was yours and you were mine.
Our souls orbited each other even before our bodies did. Even before we heard each other's names. I know you never believed in that kind of thing, but it's what I believe. What I have to believe to offer myself some comfort in the absence of you.
Does this have to be as impossible as it feels in that moment between the end and you leaving? At first, it feels like maybe anything is possible or maybe it's what I tell myself to convince myself to ask you to stay. But I never would. And you've never dared. Even in the sleepy afterglow, neither of us allows ourselves to hesitate, both so worried about sleep finding us before our instinct to run in kicks in. Before we think too clearly. Before we let ourselves forget the world outside waiting to deride us or pick us apart.
I feel your warmth like a phantom on the other side of my bed even after you're gone and although I know it's not really possible, I swear I see your fingerprints on everything you've touched. Including me.
My fingers ache with wanting you and the air seems to hold on to the shape of you hours after you've left.
