Your bones have not yet grown weary and tired,
but I still catch myself saying goodbye.
Between forehead kisses and morning cuddles, I think of the days to come.
Your last day might be tomorrow, just as mine.
Your last day is long way to come, mine even longer.
Impossibly longer compared to yours.
I catch myself saying goodbye in fresh tears and desperate holds.
In the days when I can barely look at you, forcing back my eyes to meet yours, knowing I will regret all the moments I looked away.
When I was little, I dreamed of immortality.
I didn't understand, I hadn't thought of the quiet ways you say goodbye, years before they're gone.
How fast a single year passes compared to seven.
How slow.
I've given you my soul as if it could grant yours more time with me.
I would have given you more, I would have shared my days with you until my hair began to fall in white strands, thin old spiderwebs,
and I'll know I have no more time to give.
As I look at you I can't help but think of the creatures of the dark and air, light and fire who are fated to lose their loves to old age for eternity.
As I look at you, I can do nothing but wonder if they feel the same.
No longer a dreaming child, I look in the face of immortality.
I will not live forever, I will not outlive the earth.
But I will outlive you, an unbearable burden to survive through.
An unbearable weight for the day we'll both say, Goodbye.