bank holiday

Remember Pangaea?

Yeah, I don't really either. Other than we were the only ones, we had the land all to ourselves.

Insane how what once was our home, seamless from one step to the next is now oceans apart.

That was before we were both in exile, in little rafts. Paddling angrily away from each other but glancing back all too often.

Do you want to know what the truth is?

I can love myself.

But

I can't lay behind myself and rub my own back.

I can do a puzzle alone.

But I can never deny the vastness of the Indian Ocean.

It's easy to see that all the continents once went together

Like you and I.

Inevitably, the world breaks us. Was anyone ever not meant to fall apart?

If we didn't, we wouldn't have a thoroughfare across the Atlantic, or a battleground on either side.

Without thoroughfare and war, what would we read about and where would we travel?

(but how much reading and traveling did we do anyway)

We'd be digging holes and spinning wheels. Right love?

Broken hearts give us something to write about.

Broken lands give us reasons to load our guns and stockpile the bunkers.

I remember when we showed each other thumbnails of our dream cars, and we were so crazy about the cars and each other. Hours later I broke my thumb punching you in my car.

That's not the first time I broke my thumb. Did you know that?

Would you ever imagine that just like you, I was brave and reckless and free? Like a warrior on the frontlines.

Now I'm just a soldier in the trenches.

When I'm there hiding from the blows, staring at the moon, it stares back at the broken puzzle pieces of our own little world that only we knew. I always remember you.

It's okay. I found land. I established a flag. I took my own hand, made my own plans. But I never wanted to have to. I never wanted to have to build a boat or die swimming just to see you.

While my dream car sits on the lot. Because I can't pull it off. And with you I'd crash.