i’m selfish. i really am. you see, i’m perpetually reminded about this time limit, perpetually reminded that not at this time and place yet can that time overlap, coincide with one another at all times — there will come a time for that, one day,  should we see it happen — but still i cling to the idea, hoping, wishing, maybe, that things will slow down. just for a little bit. just so i can keep you close and not have to worry. so i can kiss you, knowing our lips won’t have to tolerate too long before the next time. so i can drive home at the end of the night knowing that the distance between us is fixated, that you’re never far. so that every “i have to go” doesn’t resonate with some undercurrent of emotion and implied meaning, not perceptible on the surface but loudly palpable, visceral, even. it comes back to this, always.