I’m sure we’ll meet again, in a couple of forevers, when time has converted every moment into a memory. I’m sure we’ll meet again, at the end of the lifetime we were not meant to spend together.
We’ll understand, that we are sometimes the wrong age for our bodies, we see too much, feel too much, and all our good intentions get lost in translation.
I’m sure we’ll meet again when we’ve perfected forgiving ourselves for loving the wrong people. For pouring our entire being into open wounds, substituting our pain with naked bodies, mistaking company for commitment.
I’ll meet you when I’m on the edge of everything I’m not, when I’ve run out of masks to wear. You’ll tell me to jump, and for the first time, love will mean parachute.
You’ll meet me when I’ve run out of places to hide who I am, and for the first time, home will be a person.
I’m sure we’ll meet again when running means into your arms, and staying in one place means with you. You’ll be the only place where I can hide all my missing parts. The only finish line running from myself will lead me to, and I’ll understand what it means to begin again.
You’ll teach me the meaning of second chances, and my heart will understand what it means to get it right the first time.