Forever Lost

I hate the feeling of being lost, even if I’m not at the moment. I quietly slip through the doors, making sure that they won’t creak when I close them. I have three hours, three beautiful, cold, starry hours until the sun awakens Reality and I am once more caught in the web of social pleasantries. I’m glad I brought a sweater; it hugs me and keeps me from knowing the nightly terrors that that might make me afraid to go on. The smoky suburban air catches at my throat; I frown and it clears away to reveal where he stands in the cold street light, his breath making the air dance in mute delight. We walk on, watching light dance on water, watching fire try to escape, watching each other. I try to talk, but there’s something in my mind that tells me it’s a bad idea. He speaks instead, painting the sky with what could be stars, with what could be sparkling diamonds too beautiful to turn into jewelry, or maybe rips in the very fabric of whatever this world is made of. We walk back in silence, waiting until the very last moment to decide. The sky is lightening as we choose to be together, and just as our lips touch, the sun appears.