When I think about you, and what could’ve been (when am not thinking about what I coold”ve done different) I tell myself this lie.
… That once upon a time, we were two comets hurtling through the vast space. Our orbits orbits us in their firmamental spheres, drawing us closer and closer together. A magnetism we fought, knowing all too well that it was futile to fight.
And across the emptiness, the fluid blackness of space, through the distance between what was impossible and improbable shortened, with us in love. Magically. Nothing mattered. For we dreamt of each other as we went on with our comet business, hurtling closer to the sun, towards predestination. Our trails tracing the evidence of our love, a dark force yearning the light of something other than prudent indifference.
But like Icarus we flew to close to the sun that our wings, our graces cAught fire and we panicked. And we led our trajectories to weave the same fate, our demise entangled.
And when something other than our bodies touched. The last free space of consequence closed between us, our fates sealed. And we burned. Burned brighter than the sun. Brighter than hell.
Our individual fires too bright for either to hold, so we split, inconceivably, obeying the diminutive laws of physics and pushing farther apart scorching everything in our wake, burning everything that couldn’t rein in our yearnings. And the distance widened, the stars fell from the stars and the way to each other got lost in the blackhole of infinity.
We touched for a moment. But it’s consequences lasted eternity. Lasts still. In that reaction we separated each other inexorably and forever.
The only question is, with no other comet able to contain our individual fires, will we spend the rest our lives searching for each other or will we burn out like an old sun and fall off the face of existence?