Out of all the things he says, the only things she could hear were his eyes. Their spell was unrivaled and their depth was immeasurable.
She has always lived by the belief that everything that happens must have a reason but when she looked at this predicament they’re in, she stood in disbelief.
I think what fascinates us most isn’t what affirms our logic, it’s what denies us the very shred of reasoning we had been holding on to our whole life.
She knew that he saw the present only as part of the past and it was the one thing she never grasped because the truth was that she never felt the present as much as she did when he was around.
He didn’t need to touch her and he didn’t need to say a word. Her words fell right onto his lips every time. They were connected with a single, seamless thread that only they were aware of. This is what made it difficult for them to be apart. The fact that they shared a secret not even the stars could steal from them.
His eyes were an ocean of mystery to everyone. Everyone but her. To her, they were mirrors. The mirrors reflecting back what she loved most about herself. Reflecting infinity in a split second.
Being in his presence always felt like riding in a fast car on an endless highway. There was a rush of adrenaline and a constant anticipation of the unknown.
They talked about the end countless times but they both knew they were lying. Not to each other. To themselves. She tried convincing herself that she knew exactly what needed to be done to put an end to the free-fall but it always backfired. It always bit them right where it hurts.
They didn’t know how to put an end to it or how it would end. But this uncertainty they were living in had a single and clear constant: them.
Nothing else mattered and nothing else could undo the state they had reached.
It seems to me that we’re very often interested in knowing someone but rarely do we actually learn someone.
They were not two people in love. They were not in love. They were not even two people.
She was just a piece of sandpaper and he happened to be the match that lit the world up. They were one, the halves of a whole connected by eccentric minds and a blazing soul.
I can’t write about her anymore and I certainly can’t write about him.
Words to describe them are like shouts into the void. I know that space between them can never distance, it’s merely the declaration of two minds’ independence sharing the same soul.
I can’t write about them because I can’t look at them from the outside. I can’t keep looking at her like a stranger knowing that with him, she’s the most ‘me’ I’ve ever been.