All Lasts Ever.

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Wine glasses clinking. Soft chit chatter. Too soft from the other room. The only light in the room came from a bedside lamp that you kept turning off and on. One second as bright as your smile; another – the midnight of your eyes. Propped up next to you in a burgundy dress with my face towards you and my legs towards the ceiling…

Here was I sitting on the bench in the park that has been the hub of all our meetings and conversations. You had said you hated the park for its lack of privacy and yet you came here every single time. The komorebi lighted up the path amongst the thicket of trees and shrubs. I waited. In another lifetime I would have had you next to me with my legs over your legs holding your head over my shoulder. That lifetime seemed many eons away. The emptiness made the wait all the more anxious and anticipated.

That slight movement of your thumb across my lips. Goosebumps on my skin. You made me want to melt then and there. The slight increase in breathing. The slight rise in the temperature. You pushed my hair away from my face and behind my ear holding on to it for just a fraction longer. Then led your hand down my throat. I looked at you amid the dancing lights. The night was too dark when they went out and I wanted you…

Too much had been said and done. Too much of it was hurtful. How to know when you need a new beginning? When do you know that you have to start over? When to start over? The truth is that when you left I found you under my fingertips clinging to my pores. You were like the dust that had settled over all your letters and notes. You were the darkness that was there threatening to engulf me. They say people you love usually turn out to be one of three things: a holiday, a home or a hell. You were my holiday, my home and my hell and heaven combined. What to do then? These thoughts kept churning in my head as I waited and waited hour upon hour thinking that maybe my memories were just a figment of my imagination, thinking that how could something so perfect exist in the physical world. I may have been dreaming the whole time.

I may have been dreaming the whole time. Your fingertips crossed the threshold where all sensations turned into one. I may have been gasping for breath but I have no recollection of ever coming up for air. At some point there were no noises in the room next to ours. All I knew was that you were there. Love was tender, rude, and boisterous and pricked like a thorn. Somehow in between the tossing and turning, the highs and the lows, the muffled screams of my heart and mind I had decided that I wanted all my lasts to be with you.

The sun had set and lamps had turned on. It was going to be dark. It was time to walk out of your memories. I got up from the bench where an eternity of lasts had been etched on forever and said my goodbyes. Turning my back, I began walking away. And I saw you then leaning against a tree with a cigarette in your hand. You threw the remaining away and smiled.

Maybe it wasn’t time after all.

After all I wanted all my lasts to be with you.