I chat with you for days, feeling a new sense of excitement and novelty. We meet, and I am drawn in by your presence, unlike anything I’ve ever felt. I am a river and you are a river and we are now crossed, as it was meant to be. You show me around town, new places and new things. We express our love with words and different ways of expression. We spend every day together, day in and day out. You become distant. I become jealous and skeptical. In eachother’s presence, we are bitter, wordless. You take me out and express we can still be friends but not lovers. We cry together, naming things we’ll miss. As if you still want it a little bit … you must, I tell myself, before I’m forced to admit that our rivers have run dry long ago.