Is it? How did you imagine it? Am Iāwhat did you once think? You've definitely grown wiser, more "you" than I could have ever dreamed of. But you were right. You did take something the first time, and since then, I've been craving it back. The sad part? I'm pretty sure it's been lost... and I feel as lost as āthatā is. It's all my fault, really. I've been putting myself in this place again, and again, and again.
But this is my placeādon't you think? I firmly believe this is where I am supposed to be. This should have happened. Maybe what you took was indeed for you only. Maybe it's my time to take?.. (But) I don't want to take anything; I want to give moreāI want you to listen, to remember, to understandā¦ that all those dreams you were having, they were, they are. They could have been, they could beā
You said it first, you took it first, but guess what? I sang it to the universe long before youā¦ and I've been humming the tune into the ether since the beginning.
Or maybeā¦ no. And you were right all along. Maybe we should have named this long ago; maybe the name never mattered since the name has long changedāand I am here looking for something that has grown and transmuted just as majestically as you.
But I also want to believe in what you once told me: that we have always had the night and our dreamsā¦ And dreams have been keeping me company all these years. Those years when you closed the door. Those years when you opened the window. The years when you reshared the fireā¦ and now that you stood next to the pyre.
Maybe I'm just obsessed, crazy, sadā¦ delusional. Or maybe Iām right, and maybe all those things Iāve been dreaming have already happened. Maybe we are already living our best lives. Maybe in that other dimension we spoke in time and had the correct words. We understood what was behind our eyes.
Maybe that time, the hug happenedāand lasted a little bit longer. Maybe even though my tongue untied and unrolled words filled with worries and salty fearsā Maybe in that time, my teary eyes found their horizon and our wounded hearts found a home. Maybe then, these hands found their place and their purpose. Maybe there everything is making sense, in a room where once two people heard āI like youā and understoodāwhatever we didnātā¦ Whatever we donāt.
Maybe there will be hereā¦ one night or the nextā¦ and when IāƱl tell you āI like youā you will remember the night when you firstā When I failedā¦ but nowā I wonāt, Iād never (not again).
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