Dancing and singing so loud, out of rhythm and out of tune. Laughing so loud and so hard trying to feel alright because we just needed to feel alright.
We painted faux-hearts on our sleeves as if it could somehow manifest to be the real thing, though I know we knew better. In the dead of night screaming so hard as if trying to wake the dead. And you’d laugh and I’d laugh and we’d kiss and this feeling that lives in my bones wouldn’t threaten to kill me. There would be nowhere else we’d rather be and no one else we’d rather see and it would be as close to perfect as this mess could possibly be.
It was stupid and childish and reckless and, God, I wish we could go back. With no worry of the next day hanging over our heads, no daylight in sight and by then, we’d be asleep anyway. I still remember the tangled mess of our limbs strewn haphazardly together. Dirty jeans and the shoes we somehow kicked off our feet.
I could see the world in your eyes and it was so beautiful and so vast and full of so many possibilities. If only I could see them again, maybe I could see a spark of hope and something else I’ve been aching to see.
But I have no eyes like gems to find my future in and I have no screaming laughter to make my throat hoarse. I only have this day, this planned day and the ugly possibility of the next planned day and this boring road that does not include you.
And as I think back to those nights that made the world liven up, I think I would give this all up. I think I would give up the possibility of this planned existence for one more screaming night with you.