A jumble of tossed sheets and limbs in the very briefest of fresh daylight. From afar, we would have looked like a mess. Who are we kidding, we were a mess.
I lay there, eyes still closed, knowing this would end soon. I felt you knew it too - we were both logical and strong, but also hopeful. After all, this was the second run at things, and I learn from my mistakes; I grow, I take note, I try harder, I endure less shit.
You stirred first, making that noise that I adore; a half groan, half purr. From under the covers, I reached out and stroked your shoulder, which encouraged a smile, heavy with slumber. Still, your eyes stayed closed.
I didn't have the heart to end it, but thankfully you did. As we had, five years earlier, it was matter of fact, and we said our goodbyes. We were a mess of incompatible schedules, emotional distance, and lack of fuel. And that's it really, the fuel.
Two people can't share early morning purrs and light touches forever. Relationships don't run on four dates and two nights of sex per month. You couldn't stay with my pensiveness - that shine wanes after a few months. No fuel. Slowly, inevitably, we rolled to a halt. But there were moments.
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Los Campesinos - The Sea Is A Good Place To Think of The Future
Ending Note: Second tries are worth the effort. Always.
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