We were not a thing, you were not my lover, we were beyond the bond that made two become one, and we were so independent to become a separate entity. We could override all of those old words and recreate our own world. This dispensation doesn’t like restrictions; a chance to explore was a call to action.
We were not together, so we were under no obligation to be responsible to each other, yet I told you all of my plans, so that meant you were a part of me. We were smartphone children involved in a kind of smartphone love, except you would think double tapping and retweets would be more interesting because it’s all you long for in a world where attention is a currency and commitment is a fallacy. The world was our canvass and painting it was our job. We couldn’t stomach the thought of being in love, you’d think the movies and the novels were good manuals for the raging feelings we shared. You’d think we were about to continue the sequel of a movie that had a bad ending.
That was the issue. Happy endings were now an illusion the mind couldn’t process.
We were not in love, yet you gave me a kiss and told me I meant the world to you. You had me staying up at night, refusing to press the red button below the bottom right hand corner of my phone’s screen.
We were not in love; still you held my hands and told me I was the best thing that happened to you. We were not in a relationship, and I started to charge my phone waiting for your messages on Whatsapp, you never disappointed.
We were not a thing; we just chose to give our skins a chance of meeting at the mercy of open windows and dim lights hovering around the room. We were not boyfriend and girlfriend yet you kept saying daddy as I took your breath away with strokes; fast and slow.
We were not in love and we looked at the moon come out together and the stars retreating into the skies. We claimed we weren’t in love yet the park had become our second home were we talked about all what could and should have been. We were not a thing yet you sang to me: You are my strength when I am weak; you are my eyes when I couldn’t see.
We were not in a relationship and the reactions I felt whenever our skins came into contact where enough to cause a momentum, we were not in love yet you told me to my face as we reached climax during the act that Love was exothermic and endothermic. We were not dating, yet you explained Archimedes principle each time when we met and we looked into each other’s eye.
We were not official so it meant you didn’t have to be intentional about us, we were not in a relationship and we discussed myth, superstition and metaphysics at my place and I wrote short stories where the protagonists died because they couldn’t express their love and we talked about the veracity of Eternal bliss and perpetual damnation. We were not in love so every time we observed an interregnum I tried not to reach out because it meant I didn’t hold any weight to you and I wasn’t worthy of occupying any space in your heart.
We were not dating and I started daydreaming about your presence to counter your long absence. We were not in love so it meant I needed your permission to miss you so I wouldn’t seem creepy.
We were not in love yet our time together is the equivalent of a memoir waiting to be published as I speak. A story filled with memories I cherish and a past I dream about more than the future at my front. We were not dating yet I knew what Fenty smelled and looked like. I wonder if patterns of design loiter around your room speaking silently of my existence or ex existence. We were not dating, there are no wounds to heal, no case of broken hearts. We were not in love; we could forget and choose to remember at our will without a feeling of remorse. We were immune from the fairness of love or war; we were never in love, just two different skins, and two different humans choosing to be a mathematical problem without a formula to solve it.