Another Day (Every Day 2)

This is where I turn.

This is where I stop being held and decide to hold.

This is where I loosen myself from his arms, but only to unfold my own arms and welcome him there.

I am not saying yes, but I am agreeing that there’s no point in me saying no.

I hold him with everything I have. I hold him with so much that he will have to remember it. He will have to remember me, wherever he is.

“I love you,” he says. “Like I’ve never loved anyone before.”

“You always say that. But don’t you realize it’s the same for me? I’ve never loved anyone like this, either.”

“But you will. You will again.”

—

This is where it stops. This is where it begins.

Every moment. Every day.

This is where it stops. This is where it begins.

—

I haven’t been looking at the clock, but now I look at the clock.

It’s almost midnight.

Where it stops. Where it begins.

“I want to fall asleep next to you,” he whispers to me.

—

This is my last wish.

I nod. I’m afraid to open my mouth. I am afraid I will not be able to say what he wants me to say.

We leave the trays in the tree house. It doesn’t matter, if this is what he’s going to remember anyway. Climbing down the ladder. Running back to the house. Heading to his room.

We will remember this together. All three of us.

I want to stop time. I know I cannot stop time.

Holding hands. Then, inside the room, stopping to take off our shoes. Nothing else, just shoes. I crawl into the bed. He turns off the lights.

Only the glow of the clock. He gets into the bed next to me, lying on his back. I curl into him. Touch his cheek. Turn his head.

Kiss him and kiss him and kiss him.

“I want you to remember that tomorrow,” I say when we come up for air.

“I’ll remember everything,” he tells me.

“So will I,” I promise.

One more kiss. One last kiss. Then I close my eyes. I steady my breathing. I wait.