Sixty Minutes

These are the nights when I just had to let it all out. When something abstract such as thoughts become too heavy, and letters just kind of lift them up for me for a moment. It’s when the world just feels too empty, and the moon too high, it’s as if the sun will never rise on time just as it sets too early for my afternoon naps. These nights when I began to think if we ever belong in someplace else or this world just has infinite possibilities that in one reality, midnight is the best time for breakfasts.

And, I thought, perhaps in one of those realities, we became more.

More, not merely fireworks on New Year’s Eve, but also the scent of the first morning of the year. Not only waking up to sun rays peeping between the blinds, but also coffee, eggs, bacon and the Sunday newspaper. No, it’s not just the stolen photographs, caught amidst laughter and corny jokes, or a millisecond of a hand in another that clearly bids farewell, or even curt slow dances on prom night, it’s more. A reality where we weren’t just an almost. A reality where I chose not to make impulsive decisions.

A reality where you were mine.

”Maybe in some way, these realities are sort of interconnected with one another.”
”Well, we’ll never know. But in this reality, we’re left with what we are, what we’ll never be, and what might’ve been.”
”I just wish answers await my questions.”
”Yeah, me too.”
”But, I know one thing is for sure: in all realities, you have never left my heart.

Published by Jamie K.

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