(even heaven)

My brain is a year long before the movie ends, when there were young lovers still dreaming inside us. when there was a smile on her face every morning waking up, long as always, in his arms and all she wanted was to watch him sleep and breathe five minutes more.

She was his, then and he would have given it all up in heartbeat just to know he would always be hers.

They never used forever, though. they didn't need the words.

Perhaps they should have. perhaps it would have made all the difference that cold december, barely standing, drunk on broken knees and all he should have wept if he'd only remembered how.

But he couldn't then and he still can't now and the idea we'd ever have a happy ending is as foreign to me as that fucking eternity i once held in these scrawling hands before she knew i'd never be the one and it might take me a life to believe her.