Time Between Us

I, for one, am ready for a lot more adventure and a lot less nothing.

I don’t stay anywhere. I visit. I observe. I leave. I don’t ever stay.” I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with this information. Tell him to leave? Tell him to stay? But I don’t have time to consider any other alternatives, because he scoots in closer and brings his hands to my face, and I fall back into the bookcase as he kisses me with this intensity—like he wants to be here, and if he kisses me just long enough, deeply enough, none of what he just said will actually be true.

Time is the longest distance between two places.

I stood there and stared at it—this colorful expanse of paper, with its topographic mountain ranges and changeable shades of blue to depict the various depths of the ocean—and saw a map of the world, but knew it wasn’t mine. My world was much, much smaller

I'm completely in love with you. What if I didn't leave, after all?

Poner a prueba el destino y jugar con el no siempre tiene consecuencias evidentes e inmediatas, al final algo acaba saliendo mal.

And I know I need to invite him over for dinner, because there's no question. This is serious.

Da igual si estaba escrito o no; no me corresponde a mí cambiarlo solo porque puedo.

And I just keep going and going, picking up pins and stabbing them into the paper until the map is covered with places I’ll never see and the clear plastic box is as empty as I am.

When I look around at this ‘normal’ life you’re so eager to leave, I don’t see boring or predictable—I see friends who love you and a family that would make any sacrifice for your happiness. I see the kind of security I’ve never had and always wanted. I may have given you access to the world I know best, but you and your family have given me a world that doesn’t exist on a map.