S P A C E.

So.

Much.

Space.

Mountains and mountains of space.

As the hours pass, some of that space gets smaller.

We talk more.

To each other, not just near each other.

We give (somewhat) decent eye contact,

Now and again.

We are two elevator doors,

Slowly closing in.

The pressure to “like”, even love each other seems visible.

Urgent, even.

He shares more…

His favorite places in the city.

We speak a few plans out loud.

And start to inch closer.

We take tiny, tiny steps closer.

Love can be slow sometimes.

And always risky.

Always, we are standing at the edge of getting hurt,

Again.

And I am trying so hard not to disappear.