two thousand nine hundred twenty-two | scribbler's head
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two thousand nine hundred twenty-two

2922

Would you look at that?

2,922 days later, and there you are, beating heart across mine
with unbelievable power to so effortlessly—still effortlessly make time standstill for me.

Every line in a love song
Every passage in a romance book
Every breathtaking scenery we have and haven’t stepped afoot in
Every lingering image somewhere, somehow
I see you in each and every one of them, and time can’t bring itself to take one footstep.

And I guess you don’t know that about me. 

Eight long years of co-existing 
drawing in the same air
sharing the same plate
brushing shoulders under one umbrella
hallowing a human-shaped contour on both sides of the bed
—how can we still surprise each other?

I’ve said this once or one too many times.
My lips have shared truths and secrets to no end with you
My hand has memorialized countless moments I could never share with anyone else’s shadow but yours
In bliss and chaos, with every inch of you, only mine to keep, and is worth it.

Thousands of words have gone by, but would you have believed me if I said, “You’ll still find unseen pieces of you in me left unsaid, unwritten?”

Because I don’t think you have a true sense of what I am when I’m not with you. I don’t remember delineating all the moments you and I shared while hundreds and thousands of feet apart.

2,922 days, yet you’re unaware of how I still carry you in me
like a photograph inside a locket
like a letter from a lover out to war
like a badge
like a hoop on the left ring finger, promising evermore is not a temporary concept 

So picture me, sitting without you—clicking and clacking as I find the words that will make this piece sound nearly as immaculate as you—never truly alone because, in my head, while eyes opened, I summoned your buried face to glow.

And so, here it begins, a montage of all the time the clock has stood frozen with you unknowing.

//The first exhibit (I hear you in songs)//

I have no way of knowing, but surely, moments like this don’t happen to everyone, not in all their lifetimes.

To pause
Hold your gaze
Sigh, then break that thin-lined lips into a smile
Because you heard words in a song that sounded close to that one familiar heartbeat you would recognize anywhere, with or without a gun held in your temple.

That’s all it takes.

That’s all you have to do to whisk me off into dreaming of how our past lives were
How we were once kids, how we were young and unthinking, how we’ve had our own regrets and decisions we wish we didn’t make
But despite all that, despite being reckless and unwise, at least we can look at each other’s eyes and find them saying, ‘There it is, my one right thing.’

That’s all you have to do to provoke the firing of my neurons and whisk me off into hoping for another 2,922 days with our hands clasped, not one space of air for letting go.
I thought you should know that when I say and think of the future, it is you.
You should know that when this lifetime falls short, and I haven’t spent it enough loving you, I want my next one to still be with you.

//The second exhibit (You’re a protagonist, I reckon)//

Even in stories that aren’t ours, there lives telltale signs of your presence. 

I see you in the acknowledgment.
The one I’d be thanking and dedicating my words to on the very first page of my book if there ever was one

I see you in the preface.
The name that answers every rhetorical question before the story leads into its first chapter

I see you at the beginning.
The introduction to something awfully wonderful, the spark of chemistry from a clean start, the thrill of getting to know a character just like how I felt with you eight years ago

I see you in the conflict.
The destructive crashing and burning that doesn’t end up in giving up, the dread of losing the spark, the destructive battles that only bring two hearts closer together and beating in sync

I see you at the end.
The glorious destination at the bottom of the journey, the prize, the jewel that awaits, promising never-ending possibilities despite the story coming to its final full stop

I feel you, us, on every page. My senses are in awe of you every time I catch a glimpse of you in these words. It’s like feeling the chemistry all over again.

And when this chemistry dies down, even then, I’d still want you.

//The third exhibit (With my frail faith, I have prayed for you)//

Relationships like ours often put a question on belief.
Before you, I don’t believe I had ever had one.
But even with faith as little as mine, even as unattached as I can be with religion at the beginning of our time, I’ve clasped my hands together many times for you.

I’ve closed my eyes many times for you.
I’ve bruised my knees for you.
I’ve told the utter darkness many stories of you.

We could be wrong
We could be right
But at this moment, what matters to me is being with you
You’re who I want
And nothing in comparison has ever felt this right

2,922 days later, and you’re still who I want.