"Don’t walk pass me like a stranger," I say. And I laugh so he doesn’t know that I’m begging, that I really mean how am I supposed to live without you when I started living because of you?

ㅤㅤ

"Why would I?" He asks, but there’s a way about it, a soft lie like the falseness of his answering smile.

ㅤㅤ

And I know. We’re doomed for the same endless dance that all lovers who’ve run out of story come to. We’ll be dancing around each other the rest of our lives. Eyes sliding past, fingers curling with the memory of what that held last.