the in-betweens

"Love is so short; forgetting is so long." — Pablo Neruda, Tonight I Can Write Sometimes, living is only that short span of time. The rest of your lifetime forward is about forgetting and dying each day because death kissed you when love departed unceremoniously. Somewhere in time, I found the love of my life. In his eyes, I saw how happy I was and felt that I was beautiful and enough. We had a world of our own and were never bothered when we were lost in time, talking and laughing off our idiosyncrasies. We were comfortable about being vulnerable around each other. We traveled through space as we lied on the ground, tracing and connecting the stars as if they held our future. I knew I loved him because the sparkles in my eyes were brighter than the stars in the night sky. He did not mind if I was thinking out loud, and he would interject randomly to tell me how he loved my eyes while talking. He gave me his undivided attention and was present in all my stories as if he was t...