Warm

We ignited like a wildfire: fast and hot. We didn’t work, but we tried. One night I lied awake next to you, my fingertips unsure of whether or not to touch you and I knew it was the end when I started thinking about the way I used to search for you in the dark. It’s always the end when you start longing for the beginning.

No, nothing happened. Nothing went wrong. Our love was just a map that neither of us knew how to read; by the time we realized we’d taken a wrong turn, we found ourselves in a smoldered forest, too lost to find our way back. It was instantaneous. We broke each others’ hearts all at once. The only explanation I could offer sat tangled in my throat, but you never needed my words in order to understand me.

We could have devoured everything had we kept our momentum. The possibility never occurred to me that some fires burn out on their own. No, not all fires persist for a year. Not all fires leave behind a path that blooms better than before.

We didn’t work, but we burned brightly. You found me cold, you left me warm.

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