we are in the middle of a partly-awkward, partly-suggestive conversation and i cannot help hitting dead-ends, breathing too hard,
tripping blindly through words that used to flow with no friction but are insurmountable hindrances now.
you are trying, trying so hard, so much. i am barely getting over the guilt of putting myself over someone i loved. people say that guilt is toxic— you say so, too. i know so, too.
and yet, i don't get rid of it. it reminds me of the pain, that i never want to feel again. it reminds me that i am more cruel than i let on.
despite the struggle, you carry on. i carry on. an abrupt conversation materialises in between months and seasons, without so much as a breath in between.
there is frost and warmth in the way we circle and dodge conversations, while advising each other to open up, be normal. we could never be normal.
we are in the middle of yet another partly-awkward, partly-suggestive conversation and i am grateful that you have not lost me and i have not lost you.