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The Chain That Binds Us
I lay across his lap, wrapping my fingers through his hair. Moments like this one were too little. It seemed like we were never together nowadays, always something to do, always somewhere to be. The youth in our hearts never did match the expressions of our faces. I don’t know if we realized how special love really was, but the air was sick with it. Our eyes met, that big old cozy smile painted sloppily on his face. I always felt safe when he smiled like that, like there were always plenty of places to escape to.
The city skyline was lit up in that beautiful sunset haze. We had talked the day away, again. If there was one thing that we could always do perfectly, it was talk the others ear off. He pushed my bangs back and let his fingers trail down my cheek. We both just figured this was it, we would be together forever.
I had told him so many times we wouldn’t part because of me. That it would have to be him. I thought I could see the future, speak the future, and live it; all at the same time. It was like the window I watched my life out of was dirty. Everyone blurred together in a rush of color. Like tears in your eyes. And for some reason, love covered up everything wrong.
But at some point things changed. The slices of pure happiness that I had laid awake at night reliving over and over again seemed to fade. Love, you see, is like an invisible chain that holds two people together. As long as you stay close, and don’t let too many tears rust it up, it could bind you forever. But the farther and farther you drift apart, the more stress on the chain. And soon, all that’s left is the shackle on your wrist, and the tiny metal string holding together you, and the person fate put you in a group with.
And when that binding disappears, when love stops blurring the edges, when you forget what you were, and you've lost the one thing you don’t think you could ever find again, someone’s gotta pick up the scissors and cut the string. Then your left sitting at home typing away on a computer wiping tears on your sweater, with a big metal shackle on your arm reminding you of whose smile you used to get lost in.





 
 
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