Stop — can you feel that? There is tremor in this room. Ever pleasant, ever true. With this in here and that in there, inches away from giving in. It is exhausting. And also, what would it take for me to get this and that together?

Romance, perhaps. But the only kind I know — one that is inspired by dead languages of dead people — no longer counts for much. Grand gestures are not enough. Words, on the other hand, could mean anything. There’s a reason why courtship has been erased in the vocabularies of post-modern people. In pursuit of things that could possibly make us eternally happy, we lose ourselves into sappy, old souls in constant battle with our hearts and minds. Would I rather think or feel?

But romance, it matters. Still does. And I’d like to think that the magical moment in which this and that converge is when I would finally be able to answer myself. I need not climb a mountain. I only need to trust. That if I take that extra step in no more than a split second, you would want it. That it is what you have been thinking about too.

Would you rather think or feel?

I fail to decide fast enough right when it matters the most. The moment’s lost. By pride, by doubt. Then, in most cases, the moment returns. Another chance.

I decide. I reach for it and squeeze it. The feeling is delicate and warm. It reminds me of home.

Then I say, “I would rather feel. Because with this and that in this room, at such close proximity, the feeling is electric. And I admit, I think about it always.

Posted at 3:03pm and tagged with: fiction, CATEGORY UNKNOWN,.

  1. impossiblesouls posted this