X (expired)

X
1048/08/06

It has been raining nonstop for weeks now. A few lives have been lost and more have been devastated, but I never got drenched. Someone has been kind enough to walk with me everyday with an umbrella on hand, too kind I suppose, but I like it.

I was never really told to wait at the ground floor lobby, but it became a usual thing, an unspoken thing. It was, I guess, a tacit agreement between two people. I would sit on one of those comfy leather couches waiting for that beam that never fails to sweep me everyday.

There, I would see, the bursting contagious glee coming out of the elevator door. A flutter of those eyelashes would send sublime butterfly kisses across geographies; none of them of course, found their way to me.

That’s the tragedy of being conquered by an incidental smile. I would spend borrowed time trying to figure this translucently opaque person. “How would this person feel with/out me? Would my absence diminish a flame or fan it to a great one? Is there even a flame to start with?”

I would often ponder on those concrete abstractness between us, but I didn’t mind discovering pensiveness, and rediscovering it over and over again if I had to. Who wouldn’t want to derive rapture from a single hello or goodnight everyday?

Hours are mere minutes, and minutes are abridged to seconds all because we’re together. And often times, we’d be guessing; picking each other’s tenacious brains and putting together a puzzle that could be us.

But I guess time together is borrowed time for…

NOTE: I tried to finish with at least three scenarios, all of which I despise so I’ll leave this as it is. And maybe tomorrow I could draw inspiration and paint a better picture, one that would woo in denial soap opera-loving kind of people.


©Grace Ramos