She never learned how to say goodbye. She doesn't get the point of announcing the ending. As if it's going to make it hurt less. So instead of uttering that word, she squeezes his hand a little tighter. She buries her head in his shoulder a little longer. As if memorizing the feeling of coming home. When he laughs, she stops her world from spinning just to listen to that sound. When he cries, she plunges into his vulnerability until they are both drenching with emotion to even function. She scorches every chapter of his story deep in her chest. She has located every star who knows his wishes. Day by day, he falls deeper in love. She never knew she set up a trap until she saw him struggling to get out.
He always anticipates the ending. When he's inside a moment, he thinks of how long it will take before he gets out of it. When he looks at her, he wonders if she's secretly plotting an escape. But she's so tender when they're lying beside each other. She's focused when he's so lost in retelling his own chronicles. Her touches feel like drizzle on the first day of autumn. Her kisses are sparks on New Year's Eve. She holds his tears with caution. She ignites his smile and spreads it for the whole town to see. Maybe, somewhere between, eternity exists. Maybe, he doesn't need to get out of this moment. Night by night, he sleeps more peacefully. The morning came anyway.
