flavor of the week

i remember the day on the bus. after my friends got off, you told your friend to move over. you told me to forget about it. always telling me what to do. i pulled your hand to my lap and as i tried really hard to swallow, i looked at you. you reached around my side and i thought, "Like the ground fighting to reach the sky."  all you said was "why." every time. it's always time, and it's always why. and it always, always hurts. we need better words. stronger ones. i stayed quiet. and it's something, it's just enough for you to say the words again. "Loving the sky is a dangerous game. Loving the ground is exactly the same." there's nothing i can do but take it in. we both know you're right. i remember thinking how it would never be the same again. you drew the line and i stepped over it. i think that's when you knew. because i never said a word, i only kissed your cheek and you sighed like usual. but it felt different. i knew you'd be there tomorrow. and the next day. i knew we'd make it. and still, i know. "i live it out, as i saw it behind your eyes." i remember all the days.