We were there…

We were so certain that we’d take care of each other. Then, we ended up hurting each other. Even when we no longer have a voice to carry on. How did this happen? Were the circumstances too dire, or were we just blinded by the light?

Our hands were no longer intertwined long ago. None of us missed each other’s calluses — not that you have one. All I can remember is that your hands were softer than any grounded materials you chose when the world suddenly hit you. I can’t say I’ve forgotten how it feels, clasping through my hands.

Every touch felt so reassuring. Only recently did I realize that I needed you the most rather than the other way around. Although I have to take it with grace, I hate the reality that I am in. I keep searching for meanings behind everything that happened. Any subtle reference will do. I don’t need the details. My brain isn’t built to understand the details, but I’m eager to see it through your eyes.

I don’t know how long the tightness in my chest will last. As always, I try not to think about it, but as a human, I feel the ache every time I breathe. I thought the air was supposed to be refreshing, and why am I suffocating? Do you ever feel the same for just a moment?

I can remember only a little. Now I’m curious: Have we ever breathed the same air this whole time? You always look as you are — fresh and pertaining the light of youth — things that I always admire, things that I always wanted, things that I hope stayed with me.

We were there, weren’t we? We were passing through space and time without any care at all.
We were happy, weren’t we? Painting all the blank canvas from the colours of our own past.
We were full, weren’t we? Learning about each other favorites, including foods and the pairs of the mood.
We were high, weren’t we? From all of the chemicals bonded in our veins through our brains.
Were we really there? I’m desperately asking.