Epilouge

Once upon a time, there was a girl who made messes. Every morning she would wake up and navigate her way through junk that littered her floor. She would walk to her dresser and open a drawer, filled with memories. On the top, proud and foolish, was her yearbook. On the back page was an inscription. From him.

The girl never opened it. The girl ran away (from everything). The girl had never lost anything. The girl had (never?) been in love.

Things change.

Once upon a time, there was a boy who went through the motions. Everything morning he would wake up and slide on a pair of worn sneakers, pull on some shorts, throw in a shirt. Refreshingly ordinary; just the way he liked it.

The boy always forgot (her; every morning he would push her away). The boy was together and yet apart. The boy always remembered. The boy had always been real.

Two people, walking on the edge of the world. Tilting. Slipping. Getting back up. Flirting with the beads of sand that dropped into an hourglass. Reaching out to grasp hold of, something that they couldn't quite define, something that they couldn't understand. Making decisions. Wandering through life. Apart. But together in the fact that something was always missing. The puzzle eternally incomplete. The vital piece floating around somewhere in the sky, along with;

Her secret smile,
His resolutions,
Her sense of belonging,
His hidden thoughts,

and the truth about forever.

-Whit