Just Maybe Forse Ciao

You don't know it yet, or rather you didn't think about it before, but while you pack your bags for another trip to see him, suddenly it reaches you, like a bolt, that this might as well be the last time.  Nothing has really happened yet, but the air is heavy, his eyes unclear, your heart not transparent.  You thought you had more time, you thought you could push the deadline a bit more, maybe to the summer, but now you know you might as well expect not to. And that this might be the last time. The last time of what anyway? He is nobody and you are nobody. He is an appendix to the life you live, filled with things and places and people and trips. You can live without an appendix. You are the distraction from the full and difficult life he lives, he can live without distractions.  It takes 5 minutes to distance yourself from this forever. It takes just 5 minutes. He is nobody after all, he literally just arrived in your life. It takes 5...

The way he looks at me and the genuine eyes  that come with the lack of hiding, of protecting, of masking, of shielding.  The way he looks at me begging me to be here now, not later, not in a month. Now. And the banality of the constructions we make of the illusions of happiness we foster and the illusions of pain we seek to avoid, the noisy noisy normality and the disturbance of projections the incredulity of fear.  The impossibility of fear if all we have is now.  What could I possibly be afraid of,  if now is so special? What could I possibly be afraid of,  if now he is the most special? And he might stop looking at me like he does he might stop wanting me he might stop being cute and sexy one day in between his fuchsia running shoes and his lit-up eyes, he might stop sliding into me so well and so unexpectedly,  he might stop making me feel wild and free and out of control. It might, yes, become too ...