Crumbles Of Forever

A flicker of light in her eyes as she catches my gaze, and I catch hers. A crooked tooth is revealed by her smile—a smile as real and warm as the room we’ve found ourselves in. The quivering movement of the crowd blurs into the background, leaving only her in my gaze. An invisible energy pulls me toward her until we collide in a tight, warm, and electric embrace.

"I missed this," I whisper under my breath, careful not to let the words reach her ears. She always had her way with hugs. What a beautiful sensation it is to be enveloped in her arms, to feel reality slip into a fantasy of ours—a dream that remains and remains.

But then, a twinge. A discomfort deep inside, faint yet undeniably real. In every lingering moment, I feel it growing and spreading, enveloping me until the wall of numbness begins to crumble in her tender embrace. Her breath is warm against my neck—a soothing sensation that sparks a memory just out of reach. I want to stay here for eternity, surrounded by chaos and noise but seeing and feeling only her. I want to live this way, now and forever.

The hug lingers, awkwardly long, but I don’t care. I don’t want it to end. And yet, it does. She pulls away, and I reluctantly meet her eyes—eyes filled with so much life, so much of everything. I can’t help but gaze into them, studying them almost. I notice a hint of wariness overshadowing their brightness.

I curse the world—the flora, the fauna, the people, everything. How dare they rob the world of its light? How dare they put a dent in my beautiful sky? Curse them all.

Then, words pour out, carried by that heart-piercing voice, a voice still filled with the same curiosity she had when we first talked.

My mind races with possibilities. I imagine us slipping outside, forgetting the people waiting for us. I see us talking freely and genuinely, the way I’ve always wanted. Yet instead, I ask and answer the most mundane questions: How are you? How is school? How is everything? None of it is what I want to say or hear.Instead I want to hear her laugh. To listen talk all day, every day.

But before the feeling in my heart consumes us both, I pull away. I see a flicker of pain and disappointment in her eyes, mirroring my own. But I have to. Otherwise, I’ll want to stay with her again—forever. I’d go for a second hug, a third, and fourth,. I’d refuse any force trying to keep me from her. I can’t. I won’t let her go through that again.

I miss her. I miss my friend. I miss the hope I had with her. I miss all of her and me.

This is for the best, I tell myself. This is how it’s supposed to be. A goodbye is the only way to retain the numbness, to protect myself from falling for her all over again.