you look like a memory - writing of wenyi xue

In my head, you’re already gone. I am in a movie theater watching a movie I already know the ending of. The characters are you and me, the scene is our living room, we are laughing at something I won’t remember by the end of this. My head is on your shoulder. The room is warm. In a year, we won’t be friends anymore. My other friends call me a pessimist, tell me that I’m mistaking anxiety for premonition, but the story has to end somehow. We are going down two different paths and I’m scared to let go, but my arm is already feeling the stress of the pull. We are going down two different paths and just the thought of separating makes my eyes water, but I know the alternative will rip me in half. There is no ending where we reach the same destination, although I would fold the world over to make our paths meet. But physics doesn’t change its rules just for love and when the time comes, I’ll be the one to let go. It feels strange to be at peace with the fact that you’ll be gone, even if it

In my head, you’re already gone. I am in a movie theater watching a movie I already know the ending of. The characters are you and me, the scene is our living room, we are laughing at something I won’t remember by the end of this. My head is on your shoulder. The room is warm. In a year, we won’t be friends anymore. My other friends call me a pessimist, tell me that I’m mistaking anxiety for premonition, but the story has to end somehow. We are going down two different paths and I’m scared to let go, but my arm is already feeling the stress of the pull. We are going down two different paths an