— for everyone who loved through the static
[imagined: December 31, 2021]
I remember sitting on a fire escape in April, sharing one pair of gloves with someone I’d only known for three weeks. The city was quiet. No planes. No traffic. Just the sound of us breathing, and the distant hum of a world holding its breath. love at the end of the world -2021-
And maybe that’s what I’ll remember most. Not the fear. Not the news tickers or the graphs climbing toward tragedy. But the way we held each other at the edge of uncertainty, and decided it was still worth it. — for everyone who loved through the static
And yet.
He said, “If this is the end, I’m glad it’s with you.” No traffic
I laughed because I thought he was joking. He wasn’t.