I’m in bed, half-asleep with the morning rays seeping through the blue curtains, and I'm holding you in my arms, you who I truly love. We feel warm and touch skins, our legs intertwined, eyes locked to infinity,
And I’ll be thinking to myself. Thinking how I finally made it. How I built myself, my own masterpiece, from the ground-up. How I grew, through the rough weather and poor soil, grew higher than anyone ever imagined – my leaves and petals reaching up to the sky, embracing the sweet, cool rain falling and baptizing me into a new life. And I'd feel truly, fully alive.
And I’d wonder just how lucky I am to have met someone like you who understands me and who I want to understand: I’d be the last actor to leave the stage, and I’d go down to meet you, my audience of one, and we’d remove our masks and see our true selves and we'd talk and fall in love until all the stars die and the cold takes us. And even in the dark, we'd know the other was there. And we’d be the only ones who knew each of our little secrets, and we’d hide them in our secret places: hidden between the wrinkles of our brains, behind our ears, sealed in the spaces between our fingers, and woven into the seams of our palms and knees.
And when our time has finally come, I’d let my ashes mix with yours, so not even death could separate my heart from yours. And we’d fly into a capsule rocket to the moon, and we’d circle the earth and see the stars until everything else has turned to ash.
And I'd slowly get up and make us breakfast – some eggs and coffee, just the way you like it – and I’d hear a precious murmur behind me, whispering, unexpectedly, with a smile:
*I love you.
in an alternate universe, i know this has already happened.