on day 1, your mind wonders, “why, why, why.” on day 2, you spend less time wondering, and more time remembering. it’s little glimpses rustling through the folds of every day life that remind you what you had: a guy who happens to wear the same glasses brings back the shine of his crystal-blue eyes. a couple holding hands after grocery shopping brings you back to that first date, when childlike and excitedly you raced to see who’d find the ginger first. a mention of a diamond ring reminds you how he never believed in marriage.
“would you ever do that, date someone forever but not marry them?” asks your friend over coffee. her boyfriend’s looking at you too, curious about your answer. you blink.
it’s not depressing or sad, day 2. it’s just a mild recognition of what’s at hand, a mellow passage through your day, a slight hint of fear in the back of your mind of the rest of the time without him.
the “saddest” thought: this in your life is over. it will never come again in this lifetime. you crossed paths for a short time, and now it’s over. there will be other people sure, in both your life and his, but you two will never be together again. you’ll never have those moments of quiet understanding, a simple joy at being near each other. those moments when you didn’t look past the day in either direction, and just waited, in each other’s embrace, talking, laughing, oblivious to time and things and most of all the invisible calendar, edging you closer to the next square set out for you.
ay. my heart still doesn’t ache. it’s containing itself while the mind does all the work now. i think they’re still a good pair, these two, still working to save each other.