Say we were to run away, just for a quick trip to a place with empty beaches and hot sun. Say we met there, arriving by two separate planes at the same time so we can walk together to grab our luggage full of bathing suits and not much more. Say we left it all and met in a place we’ve never been before, surrounded by people who don’t know us and don’t care to know us. Say we could finally see each other.
Would we run to each other? Would we hug? Would you touch my cheek and whisper how much you love me into my ear? Would you drive us to the ocean? Would you hold my hand between shifting gears? Would we play music or would we sit in comfortable silence? Would I finally be able to rest my fingers gently on your neck?
Imagine what it would feel like to be behind closed doors, real doors. Imagine locking that door and pulling off each other’s clothes. Imagine the heat of our skin melting together from a decade of desire. Imagine it quickly. Imagine it slowly. Imagine your breath. Imagine my taste. Imagine the breeze coming in through the window as we fall asleep.
Do you think we would fight? Do you think I would cry? Do you think we would talk about everything that holds us apart? Do you think we would ignore what the world has told us for years? Do you think we would be happy, just for that time? Do you think we would regret it?
And then we return to the lives that hold us steadfastly apart. And we remember our time in a place where love came together. And we still talk. And we still wonder. And we still long for each other.