We Were Too Perfect To Last Forever In Reality

I'm Priscilla
I’m Priscilla

There are a lot of things I remember about you.

I remember the day I learned someone like you existed in the same world I am in. I remember the stone bench under the blue, bright sky. I remember the warm wind and the sleepy feeling the early afternoon brought.

I remember the weight of the camera dangling from its strap on my shoulder. I remember your friends and their smiles. I remember the handshakes. I remember the birthday surprise and the tears and the hugs. I remember you wearing a different uniform. I remember you standing out.

And I definitely remember when we bumped into each other and the awkward words that followed. I remember the first time we hung out. I remember the cold metal bench inside the mall. The ones under the escalator.

I remember the talks. I remember the ropes of our bond slowly knotting themselves together, like they had always known the way around each other and that this was meant to be. I remember the ocular. I remember the gig.

It wasn’t long till we had each other’s numbers. I remember the consistent texts. I remember the 30-second calls. A lot of them. I remember the first night outside. By the sea. The breeze caught in her hair, pushing them back. I remember your life story. Your father, mother, sister. Your ex-boyfriend. Your best friend and the other friend and still the other friend.

I remember your sweaty hands and the first time I held them in the cinema. My own hand was a mold, cupping yours in a perfect fit.

We were something I have only read in books but never seen. It was like living in my own imagination. I have never met a woman like you. I remember the need to be with you. There was a smile spread across my face when you’d suggest eating dinner outside on the same barbecue stall on the beach. The cold wind blowing away all the doubts and the pain of the past. Of the recent past.

I remember the visits. I remember peeling layers after layers of myself to you.

You made me vulnerable. I remember all the “please come and get me” and the “wait I’ll be theres.” I remember the laughter. All of them. I remember the broken tooth on a complete smile. I remember the warmth and the comfort they brought.

I remember the first kiss. I remember the almost first kiss under the shadow of the 3-meter metal sculpture.

I remember how I loved having your hands fit perfectly in mine. I remember our lips dancing to the music, our hearts beating in a harmony so beautiful the angels in heaven might have composed them with their own wing feathers on golden parchments.

I remember the breaths we tried catching. The same one we were sharing. I remember the heat. I remember how my limbs tangled with yours. I remember feeling secure, with the sheets around our bodies in this trance and reality locked-out in the other side of the door.

We were criminals. The hugs and kisses and the late night walks camouflaging the guilt. If you didn’t look closely, you wouldn’t even know it was there. We knew it wouldn’t work.

But I remember us looking into the darkened horizon, hands locked, imagining what could be. Could have been.

The perfect picture. Where all this was right. Where right here, right now, the cold breeze on your hair, the sparkle in your eyes, and the butterflies bursting out my stomach, were the only reality the world could hold. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

More From Thought Catalog