Back on the couch; we were pressed tightly against each other. Our souls locked tight. My mind could not conjure up a dream of us ever being otherwise. This was it. This was good. We were slowly intertwining ourselves within one another. Twisting. Twining. Connecting. Colliding. Soon, our souls will become one.
But then the sofa pulls out from under us my hand gripping, slipping, reaching for yours. It's too late. Gravity is tugging us apart, shoving us in opposite directions. You look at me with eyes that say: “Maybe this is how it's supposed to be.”
My throat tightens. Gravity has me by the neck. My hands and feet are bound together I am unable to move, or speak. I want to shout “NO!” My mind is racing. My heart is clenching. This wasn't how it should be. This was the fear we had buried deep inside us, the one you thought about often but never convinced yourself it could actually become reality. And now, it was seeping out and filling itself into our plans and dreams.
You begin to float away, leaving me captive within the gravity’s hold and the floating (now meaningless) couch. “There's nothing more.” You say. Your eyes are apologetic, which makes me feel so hopeless. My fingers grasp at your body’s delineate. I'm limp now. Our anatomy changes. We’re stretched, shifting and bending into something else.
It’s reality now. We are complete strangers that have nothing left but the imprint of our souls on one another.
We always pass, completely parallel. Never together. Never crossing. Never like before.
What Happened to Us?