on beginnings

ours was a messy beginning: a convoluted nonbeginning of starts and stops. of starry friday nights. of melancholy late saturday evenings. of glorious early sunday mornings. of trying to read each other. of looking at each other for clues. of saying no but meaning yes. of embracing each other. of pushing each other away. of getting mixed signals.

our beginning was full of (un)ending frustrations. full of wanting. something, anything. that only begot more wanting. and then realising -finally!- that we hated what we are not. that we could and couldn't be.

ours was a passionate beginning. of not getting enough of each other. of wanting to get inside of each other. of wanting to exist in each other only. of existing only for each other. of needing only each other. of wanting to be seen. of not wanting to be seen. of being seen. of getting only disapproval and judgement. of being together because of the disapproving looks. of being together in spite of the judgement.

our beginning was different. one in which we could see the end as it began. one in which we could see the end on the horizon, but the horizon kept moving further as we approached. one in which we had our doubts as we began. one in which our hope for a future nodding acquaintanceship was the only thing that kept us going. one in which we persisted despite knowing that one day soon, we would (will) part.