Shaky At Best

December 6, 2010
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You look the same as always. Your hair is stuck up the way you like it. Those jeans have always been your favorite. Your shoes are falling apart, but that’s usual.
You almost can’t tell the difference. We hug, we talk, we laugh. But the hug lingers a moment past friends. Eye contact is shaky at best.
It is raining but neither of us wants to leave. Because this is as close to the past as we will ever be and each passing second takes us further away.
Our hands brush and I don’t want to move. I want remind you of the promises you made. Because you made them and we both believed them. Which means you have to keep them, doesn’t it?
Doesn’t it?

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