I watch the waves hit stairs the same way my heart thumped - loud, crashing, irregular -
as I realize I might be the bad one.
If bad means craving to be seen, to love, to see,
to be heard, to seize, to hear.
If bad means wanting to hold someone’s hand and feel like the world has stopped moving,
To connect with someone’s soul and see them for who they are,
and for them to see you as who you are,
Then indeed I am sorry for being bad.
I’m sorry for wanting to take someone to my secret place, for wanting to be taken to theirs,
for not fearing us growing apart — alas why should I?
A perfect relationship does not need to be forever, if you simply cherish all the moments you have together.