there is something so humbling about finding peace in silence

there is something so freeing about having a clear mind

there is something so soothing about not having to fill space with words

and there is comfort in spending my time doing nothing

but simply sharing this silence with you.

it took ten texts to see you

nine sleeps till the day dinner at eight? i was there for seven parked six blocks away

so you would walk me to my five year old car

four seconds of uncertainty three minutes of bliss two lovers on the street

and one goodnight kiss.

we would take our time exploring each other understanding each other in ways we hadn’t before

we would share the thrill of success the burden of failure and we would grow together

we would experience not just surviving but l i v i n g

learning, losing, overcoming, choosing

a life for ourselves beyond the ones we were born into

no stone left unturned no promise left intact

A gold glow followed him as he came into view. Taking the last few steps, his silhouette backlit against the warm sky, he made it to the top of the hill, taking my breath away.

I couldn’t quite make out his features; his amber eyes, sun kissed cheeks, chiseled jaw, but I knew they were there.

I knew his eyes would find mine.

I knew I would run and collapse into his arms.

I knew he’d hold me while the tears ran and hold me until they stopped. And then he’d hold me some more, an embrace, one we both dreamt of all this time he was gone.

To me, he was the sun.

To him, I was the moon.

To each other, we were the only two beings in a lonely universe. A universe that was meaningless when we were apart.

It had been fifteen years since the sun had last risen.

It took one second for me to forget the darkness, and welcome back the light.

I bore my words like weapons. Knives that cut and left scars. I knew what I was doing. I knew the pain I’d inflict.

Heartbreak.

I did it anyway.

“Oh my sweet Prince. Did you really believe it to be true?” I circled the chair he was slumped in, his head hung low between his shoulders. “You honestly thought this would work? That we would have a happy ending?” Resting my hands on the back of the chair, I leaned forward, my face mere inches from his. “You don’t come back from what I’ve seen. What I’ve felt.” His breathing hitched when I turned towards him, my gaze tracing the line of his lips, jaw, neck.

He swallowed. “Did you ever mean it?” It came out barely a whisper, but I latched on to his every word.

I thought of my younger self, how she trusted.

How she lived.

How she loved.

Finally I replied. “Once, yes. But only once.”

And I knew I didn’t need to say more.