Lyzel in E Flat

A part of me thinks I will shed this person, I will crack my candied shell metamorphosed and deny our past together. I feel as though I am growing exponentially - aging in dog years - and he is my mentor, my foil, my vitametavegamin. He says things I can unwrap like sweet, secret morsels of the mind, things at once cryptic and deciphered, things that I can so intimately cherish as they melt into my greater consciousness, settle and digest. And yet, I ponder the day of my rude awakening. When this moment will be gone, so touch-and-go, so tag-and-not-it. I fear he may be just a phase I am growing into growing out of, and that I may be deluding myself of a reality otherwise. So I think harder, push farther, propel forward, and quietly make these preoccupations with the Retrospective Now fall away. The way our minds together intended.

It doesn’t matter what I think I will think what I think when I think about him. Right now what matters is it’s him.