Two words, “too close.”
I wonder what they mean. I don’t understand why you’d use them for us, as we stand two feet apart, barely shaking hands, as if our touching would cause them to burn.
Too close? I wonder, on the ride home.
Last we met; I remember our hands intertwined, as we stared into each other’s eyes. You’ve heard my heart beat too loudly; I’ve felt your pulse race as you think of the future.
Too close for what? I ask myself as I try to fall asleep.
We’ve lived through each other’s worst. I have dealt with your demons at two in the night; you’ve kissed mine to sleep at four in the morning. There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do for you.
Is too close an excuse? I think, as I sit in class, drawing a face that faintly resembles yours.
We have pledged our eternal love to each other, at different points in time. We’ve collided when we didn’t even mean to, and have drifted away far too many times. But we always found a way back.
Too close, I think, for weeks on end.
When I finally realize, after all these years, we’re too far to be lovers, but too close to be just friends.
