“I. On my right is a boy who I love very much. We just came back from a screening of short films. The last one was about a girl who is brought to the future by her third generation clone. At the end of the film my thoughts were consumed by death. That was like a… some metaphor that I can’t even quite think of. It scares me. The boy I love has a brain tumor. I think about him dying about once or twice a week. Not a lot, but probably too much. I more often think about the dried flowers that hang from my wall by dental floss that he has picked for me. Or the way he moves his hands over the world and makes beautiful pieces come together into raw, unfiltered art.
II. I came in patches when I met him. He brought my corners together, folding them into his pocket. I came with an excavation knife, picking away at the hardened bit until our bones could touch. We both uncovered the earth we had sunk in.
III. Sometimes I think we will be together forever. Sometimes I think everything is meant to come to an end. But I suppose the definition of end is a little arbitrary.
IV. I just signed a contract. And I’m honestly a little unsure what it was for. Funny how we are so willing to put our names on things.
V. but I would intertwine my name with his.”
Whoever wrote this beautiful piece is my favorite now. ❤