curled up in the front seat of her car, they cried for hours, racing against a clock that was ticking much too fast, afraid of the lives that would be carried out in the distance, one accepting that mistakes of the past could not be changed, regretting yet loving the rash decisions made in even less logical moments. the other, oblivious to the mistakes the other has made in her past, loving her nonetheless, likely guilty of her own irrationality. likely just as guilty of covering up huge hurting holes with small incapable sentences, small incapable words rationalizing moments of pain and love and sadness and that rush. that rush that brought the other here, in her car, in her seat, behind her wheel, crying tears of joy for the time that was spent, tears of heartache for the times that will not, tears of hope for the time the must come, if not all too slowly.
curled up in her bed alone, she cried for hours, sitting next to that clock that was ticking much too slowly, afraid of the lives that are now being carried out, afraid of the other making and accepting mistakes that will be unable to be changed. afraid that she’ll make those rash love intentioned decisions in those even less logical moments. still hopeful for the future that has been laid down, a plan of years to be spent and time to be shared. it must work out she screams in her head. don’t let us fall, don’t let us cave, don’t let us forget the promises we’ve made. may the huge hurting holes, so insufficiently covered, learn to cover themselves, to heal and be forgotten. may the past not affect this future, she thought. still curled up in her bed alone… sitting next to that clock, still ticking much too slowly.
