The Story Of Our Lives

The man took out his pen and asked a girl if she really wanted to be loved and to love, paused and shared the same song but performed by two different artists.

He preferred the latter and made a mental note to ask her what she thought.

For a moment he paused again and tried to recall whether they had discussed this or not but just couldn’t remember as they had talked about anything and everything.

We were alone and I was singing this song to you
We were alone
And I was singing this song to you
We were alone and I was singing this song
Singing this song to you

Did they ever stop singing? Was there ever true silence?

They had gone for extended periods with no communication but he suspected the communication never ended.

Something about them was different and always had been. There was a deep spiritual connection between them that defied science.

It was easier to pretend there was nothing and that all they had was a coincidence because you could come up with scientific evidence to support that, but it didn’t explain nor cover all that had transpired.

Every time they were torn apart they universe conspired to bring them back together but for what end, he could not say.


Who Do You Love?

Every now and then he thought about looking her in the eye and asking the question.

She was unlikely to volunteer or confirm such thoughts unless she heard it from him first and even then she might not admit it or say anything.

If you pushed her at the wrong time at best she would say “she loved him” and then qualify it with “but I am not in love with him.”

Maybe that was true and maybe it wasn’t.

Maybe it didn’t matter because people fall in and out of love all the time so it was almost like a natural cycle or circle with them.

He wasn’t sure why he threw the last song in, just felt like it.

Maybe it was because he was in a space where he felt like he was fighting off a pack of wolves and he was tired.

So very tired that for the first time in years he thought about just lying down and taking the beating for a little while because maybe, just maybe he wouldn’t bleed to death and would somehow rise up again.

He knew it was a dangerous plan because if he let it go too far he wouldn’t have enough left to return to the battle.

But he couldn’t keep up the pace as it was and that was a problem too.

And then in the midst of it he heard her voice and remembered her telling him to go back and fight some more.

Remembered it from so many years before when she would watch him fight and encourage him to keep going.

They weren’t kids anymore and part of him felt foolish about how he loved showing off for her but there was another part, an echo from times gone by that said sometimes you can find that sweet air and breathe again.

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