We leaned against each other as we read the rest of the night away, slowly growing silent. We both nodded, and without a word knew exactly what we both meant by it. The last of the night followed. Today was a good day. I fell asleep hugging her, my hands on her as I felt a sharp pang of guilt, equating myself to perverts, gropers who steal what cannot just be taken with hands, my head building patterns of association, doing everything it can to tell me I don’t deserve what I have right now. Perish the thought. My arms wrapped around her tighter and my hands fell limp. I wish she could choke me right now. I want to die. I want her. My mind starts to spiral on its own again, hurting itself with its thoughts. It’s three in the morning, and I can’t shake off the feeling that I’m forgetting something.

     I laced my legs in between hers, and she had her skin glow a pale blue color, a dim glow. Take a breather. You’ll be okay.

I inched my face closer to hers, and in a second, my lips left hers as quickly as they came. I didn’t dream that night.

̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶{̶ ̶[̶ ̶(̶ ̶∃̶x̶(̶"̶P̶e̶r̶s̶o̶n̶"̶ ̶(̶x̶)̶∧̶∀̶y̶(̶"̶T̶i̶m̶e̶"̶ ̶(̶y̶)̶→̶"̶H̶a̶p̶p̶y̶"̶ ̶(̶x̶,̶y̶)̶)̶)̶ ̶)̶ ̶]̶ ̶}̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶

̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶“̶ ̶-̶s̶t̶a̶t̶i̶c̶ ̶-̶ ̶”̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶

I woke up to the sound of her cooking. The sizzle of pans and the scent of meat slowly faded into view as I drifted into consciousness, slowly becoming more and more aware of my surroundings. I sat up and stretched, the cracks in my back popping, shaking myself awake as I tuned myself to the tempo of the world I was in, the air bracing around me like water. I had things to do today. Bathe, eat, change, go to work.

Today was just a regular day like all the rest. If it weren’t for that, I could’ve been unstuck in time.

I got out of bed to face whatever the day had to throw at me; things I’d be used to by now, hopefully.

“Oh, hey! You’re finally awake!”

   Her voice rang out from the kitchen, the clatter of plates and glasses followed.

      “Yep! God, last night was pretty weird, wasn’t it? It’s all a blur right now,            but, I feel like I can remember it if I want to.

            …do I want to?”

                 “That’s up for you to decide, dear. Personally, I think you were fine,                     but you might beat yourself up again,

                        looking back-”

                               “Ah.” I cut her short. My finger was raised, posing to                                               interject. Words formed out my head.

                                         And slipped out through my skull.

                                                   I walked up to her. I’ve got a headache. Me, me,                                                     all I ever think about.

                                                           Me.

                                                               “Worry about yourself for a bit, please.                                                                       It feels suffocating,

                                                                      To have you take care of me this                                                                                  much.”

                                                                            “Thank you so much for                                                                                                sticking by me, I-”

                                                          “-it’s noth-”

                                                                                        “-I wanna get through                                                                                                    this by myself.”

                                                                                               “I’ll shower. Talk to                                                                                                         you later.”

                                                                                                     I walked. The valves

                                                                                                          Turned, and

                                                                                                                         I

                                                                                                                                     W

                                                                                                                                      a

                                                                                                                                      s

                                                                                                                                      h

                                                                                                                                      e

                                                                                                                                      d

                                                                                                                                       .

Think of something mind-numbing. Think of something that’ll slow you down. Patterns. Patterns. Patters, soap on my skin, suds, coating my skin in an oily, rainbow-like tinge. Water, a loose coalition of like particles. Swirling, spreading, forming chaos from order.

I think of the Navier-Stokes equation. My hand runs through my hair.