Breathless

Sometimes I think about moments that could’ve taken our breath away, if only we’d had the chance to breathe. I keep thinking of trading stories and hearts and souls. Watching them build upon each other, carrying us upwards, spiraling towards something greater than ourselves. Looking down as we build steps of feelings strong enough to carry our happiness as well as our tears, and watching the world fade away. I wonder about walking through tunnels of time, knowing I have you by my side and listening to echoes of laughter. Soon they would have followed us, and preceded us, surrounding us, enveloping us as we walked tangled in each other. Even these thoughts leave me suffocated since the recipient of good intentions has only left me with footprints - markings that will fade with time. Or will they? Or will they fossilize, and imprint a moment on the path we once shared, looking back at us like an artifact in the past begging to be researched. Or will it be a shallow grave, where we can now put our misplaced feelings, our confused thoughts, our selfish arguments, and our sleepless nights. I’m out of breath again, stumbling over thoughts that are too thick to ignore. A fog you can feel on your face, kissing cheeks with microscopic drops of water and fading as quickly as they appear. You feel soaked, but wetness eludes the skin. Instead, just leaving you chilled to the bone and in search of shelter while drowning and gasping. Waiting for somebody to see your arms flinging. The staircase collapsed in an earthquake. And the tunnel caved in during a storm. I can barely whisper your name, for fear that I’ll need that breath for survival, trapped in a disaster. Love is too asthmatic for daily living. How would we be able to catch up with the rest of life? I stumble without you to catch my fall. Or are you out there waiting for me, waiting until I hit the bottom? I’m breathless once again, without even having a chance to breathe…