Moments in Between

I was up late flipping through channels and I saw a film that reminded me of you. It was one of those cheesy civil war epics. We would cuddle up to them on cloudy, lazy Sunday nights. You know the type... where He’s a soldier, away at war while She’s home, left to fend off frustration, loneliness and temptation. I remember our favorite part was always the love letter scenes. You loved the melodrama while I loved a good montage. We both laughed at the hopelessness in their voice. In the cold grey barracks he would write to her by candlelight:

“For reasons beyond me, amidst the violence, tragedy, and unforeseen bonds of loyalty and survival... the thought of you in my embrace keeps me alive, I reckon.”

Shadows dance on her face as She eloquently pours her longing onto the parchment.

“I think of the sweet nuances that define the curve of your smile. How I long to be trapped in your warm embrace, no longer cold in your absence.”

As She pens her script, I sit and type my own. I can’t tell if I’m the one away at war fighting to bring peace to the world, or if I‘m still here, where you once were -- left alone and hurting. She looks through tear-soaked eyes down towards her ink-stained fingers, then an upward glance draws the eye back to the dancing flames. Beyond the frosted window and into the night sky, it’s cloudy.

“It’s so dark...” We both think. I watch her, I listen, but I can only see myself. Sitting there, sulking in the dread of the unknown. I stare into her deep, sunken eyes, heavy with sadness. Mysteriously, I hear a voice calling from a distance. Soft and hush, yet powerful enough to lead us into a new scene.

“Love doesn’t leave you in the dark, wondering if the other person loves you back.”

This is you, love. This was us. The wondering of it all drove us in circles. The wondering gave weight to considering other options. I think of my options now, I remember when you were once an option. Why do we reflect on our options? Why do they creep up on us in defining moments? I believe options [like love and intuition] are primal. Controlling, confusing, satisfying, validating, empowering, giving, and taking… When I think of you, I’d like to imagine our love was once a guiding light. Do you think options influence our instincts? When we follow our instincts will we find love?

“Too much thinking hurts my brain” I would joke. But honestly, my attraction towards overthinking led to our demise. Options, you see, are what ended us. My heart led me to you, but now I wonder if we ever really mattered.

A dramatic pause means this scene is almost over. She is pontificating closure.

Cut-to

The barracks where He does the same. Only, I don’t think He has many options to consider, really. Imagine being faced with this reality, knowing you may never see your one true love ever again? All He can do is pen his soul and anguish into a letter She may never read.

I know you won’t read this letter because you never made it to the end. You fell asleep, you always fell asleep. Maybe you are sleeping now. Maybe you will wake up and realize I’m not there. That I will never be there, that I never really was there.

Overthinking again. I should probably just breathe. The moments in between are meant for us to just breathe. “Gather your thoughts” they say. But you are still in my thoughts. Especially younger days when the air around you was fresh and sweet. To breathe you in one last time…

I think of you still... I wonder if you do the same. I wonder…

Is love worth a lifetime of sacrifice?

Is it sacrifice if we’re in love?

Do you write letters I will never read?