Ageless, Ageless
& i'm there in your arms
you can keep the house
but i'm taking my heart back
you slam the door and run down the front porch, keys in your hand and tears in your eyes. the metal rings jingle in your fingers and it helps when you start the car; it drowns out your sobs. you can't afford to turn on the radio because every song will speak to you in his voice and you aren't sure if you want to hear it again. you've been here before; this mustang is your home and the pavement is your friend and you were a fool to believe you belonged anywhere else. carved by tires in the concrete are the testaments of the dreams you left behind when you stayed with anyone too long. it's time to chase them again. it's time to let go.
i can't stay here
even the walls sing like you
you don't know where you've gone wrong. you want to take all the blame if that means you'll get him back; you want to fault him because he was guilty too and you're tired of shouldering his burdens. your palms feel sick-sweat and cold-wet when you try to hide your face in them. there's a photograph on the mantel and you're both smiling and you can remember the reason why, but you don't know how to get it back. were those smiles ever real? it's hard to believe you were ever happy when you're the farthest from it now. you wonder if he'd already been miles away before he even turned on the ignition and ran over your heart. he left, and you need to leave too. you can't stay here; not when even the furniture is screaming his name.
do you think
we could ever be friends?
you ask, with your head on his chest and your fingers entwined with his, as if everything is all right. you met up again to split everything you owned and say goodbye, but before you know it he's opening you up as easily as he had before and you're whispering all of your secrets into his ear. it may be meaningless, but it was frantic and hard and both of you felt it all the way to your bones, just the way you liked it. it's wonderful, how you still moved in sync, as if he wrote the very instructions to make you climax on your skin, and he's just reading it again, simple abc's. and it's ugly too, because you don't even share this bed anymore, but you're still waiting for his reply, counting his heartbeats like seconds on a malfunctioning clock.
no, i don't think so
i'm sorry too
there is no way you can say that at all. the answer isn't worth a million dollars and both of you cheats already know it, but how to put it into words? how to tell him without breaking his heart again, and yours in turn? is he just baiting you again? you know how cruel he can be. wow. did you just think that? how could you - how dare you do that to every precious unsullied memory you still had of him? you didn't seem to forget how to bend him to your will, squeezing his hips as if they were anchors to arch him closer to you. you saw how he fixed his eyes on you as if the only other option was to stare at the sun. you felt how he pushed his tongue into your mouth as if he wanted you to swallow him down your stomach like that greek god he once told you about. cronus, yeah, that was him - he who ate all his belongings before they could betray him. then you realize that that's exactly what he wants you to do. so you stop resisting, and you leave your last mess.
you took nothing but photos
left nothing but stains
for the most part you're doing well. not being tied down to anyone meant you could go anywhere you wanted, fulfill the wanderlust you were born with. you're no longer enclosed in four-cornered rooms; you've advanced to a box everyone has in their homes. there are no more walls around you, but you've moved them all to your heart, a fortress so high and so wide that even a trojan horse would have knelt in front of its gates in defeat. you're impenetrable, you won't even admit that all you want is for someone to knock them down. but you've lost that long ago, and all you lose yourself into these days are men who only ever make it to your door, sent away with an empty promise and a deceptive kiss. you can't give away your key anymore, it hurts too much if you even unlock yourself for a second and take a peek inside. but for the most part you're doing well. you can't complain.
will i ever love anyone
the way i loved you?
she's the only thing keeping you going. you don't know how you would have ever survived without her; all smiles and joy and innocence and she doesn't look a thing like him but she reminds you of him anyway. sometimes you forget how you suddenly ended up with this girl living with you, but you're anything but ungrateful. she lights up any place she walks into, and even if she does not brighten you up the way he did at least a bit of her shine reflected on you. she is the best mistake you ever made, the best thing that ever happened to you, and inwardly, when you let yourself think about it, you hope he has someone like her to keep him from ruin. it's all you can do to wish he replaced you. it would hurt less to know that he's happy, at least; and while you're not, not yet, you're getting there. you have a little girl by your side to make sure you get there.
you aged
like fine wine
it's embarrassing that after all these years it's the first thing you think of, but fortunately you refrain from saying it aloud. it's not very you. that doesn't mean it's not true, though. he reminds you of that century old italian chianti you keep untouched in the cupboard because real life isn't good enough for it, and you aren't good enough for someone you weren't strong enough to hold on to. it's not wrong to look, right? to laugh about things you pretend you've gotten over? it's something people do to move on, even if the one they're trying to escape is right in front of them. it's embarrassing, and if it were only a handful of years ago you would have flushed as red as the bittersweet liquid in your glass, but it's now, and now is not the time to pine after something you were too stupid to let go of, but you can't help but wonder if that stare you can feel on your skin is someone trying to relearn a language forgotten.
and you
haven't aged a day
you blurt it out and you don't regret it, because a beat later he's grinning and you're certain it's more beautiful than the new york skyline, the mountains at the alps, than paris in the spring, even if you've never had the urge to go to those places like he had. you want to ask if he'd outgrown those fantasies or if he had fulfilled them, but between the two of you he was the one who was better at words. there's so much about him you want to know, so much of him you want to touch - there's no use denying that, now, you'd go to the grave with that love firmly implanted in your heart and you'd expect it to push through the soil and coil around your tombstone - but how? you converse and tease each other as if you both came out of the ordeal unscathed, but you notice the absence of a ring on his finger or the faraway look in his eyes when he talked about someone you had a right to be jealous of. you wish you could read his mind; maybe you still could.
i hope you knew
i always belonged to you
you're on your knees and it's taken more than a decade and thousands of miles to figure out you never wanted to be anywhere else. your mouth and your eyes and your heart are filled to the brim with him and you let it override your senses, heady and strong and human. he fists his hands into your hair like he wants to braid his fingers into them, so he won't have a reason to ever let go. it takes your breath away for a moment, the intensity of it, and you choke on him and stop. god, this is not the time to cry. he does not seem to mind; he lays you back down as if to say that the two of you had the rest of your lives to figure out how to make it right again. all you ever had to do was stop fighting.
it’s better to hear you say
that you’re mine
you’re inside him and only now do you understand his tears. it’s too much, too long; there are lines on your bodies and weariness in your bones that were not there before, but there are no new marks. it’s amazing, it’s disgusting, it’s beautiful, your push and his pull – a tide of legs and sheets and sweat and the moon shining on the roof above your heads. he still opens his mouth and closes his eyes the same way, dark features on stark skin and you want to bruise your name all over him to let the world know what you have, what they can only covet. but you don’t; there’s time for that later, time to know each other again, so much time you don’t know what to do with except waste on him. you bury your face into his neck and nestle your heart right beside his, and it is with one final cry that you match the wetness on his cheeks. it’s not over.
but i'm taking my heart back
you slam the door and run down the front porch, keys in your hand and tears in your eyes. the metal rings jingle in your fingers and it helps when you start the car; it drowns out your sobs. you can't afford to turn on the radio because every song will speak to you in his voice and you aren't sure if you want to hear it again. you've been here before; this mustang is your home and the pavement is your friend and you were a fool to believe you belonged anywhere else. carved by tires in the concrete are the testaments of the dreams you left behind when you stayed with anyone too long. it's time to chase them again. it's time to let go.
i can't stay here
even the walls sing like you
you don't know where you've gone wrong. you want to take all the blame if that means you'll get him back; you want to fault him because he was guilty too and you're tired of shouldering his burdens. your palms feel sick-sweat and cold-wet when you try to hide your face in them. there's a photograph on the mantel and you're both smiling and you can remember the reason why, but you don't know how to get it back. were those smiles ever real? it's hard to believe you were ever happy when you're the farthest from it now. you wonder if he'd already been miles away before he even turned on the ignition and ran over your heart. he left, and you need to leave too. you can't stay here; not when even the furniture is screaming his name.
do you think
we could ever be friends?
you ask, with your head on his chest and your fingers entwined with his, as if everything is all right. you met up again to split everything you owned and say goodbye, but before you know it he's opening you up as easily as he had before and you're whispering all of your secrets into his ear. it may be meaningless, but it was frantic and hard and both of you felt it all the way to your bones, just the way you liked it. it's wonderful, how you still moved in sync, as if he wrote the very instructions to make you climax on your skin, and he's just reading it again, simple abc's. and it's ugly too, because you don't even share this bed anymore, but you're still waiting for his reply, counting his heartbeats like seconds on a malfunctioning clock.
no, i don't think so
i'm sorry too
there is no way you can say that at all. the answer isn't worth a million dollars and both of you cheats already know it, but how to put it into words? how to tell him without breaking his heart again, and yours in turn? is he just baiting you again? you know how cruel he can be. wow. did you just think that? how could you - how dare you do that to every precious unsullied memory you still had of him? you didn't seem to forget how to bend him to your will, squeezing his hips as if they were anchors to arch him closer to you. you saw how he fixed his eyes on you as if the only other option was to stare at the sun. you felt how he pushed his tongue into your mouth as if he wanted you to swallow him down your stomach like that greek god he once told you about. cronus, yeah, that was him - he who ate all his belongings before they could betray him. then you realize that that's exactly what he wants you to do. so you stop resisting, and you leave your last mess.
you took nothing but photos
left nothing but stains
for the most part you're doing well. not being tied down to anyone meant you could go anywhere you wanted, fulfill the wanderlust you were born with. you're no longer enclosed in four-cornered rooms; you've advanced to a box everyone has in their homes. there are no more walls around you, but you've moved them all to your heart, a fortress so high and so wide that even a trojan horse would have knelt in front of its gates in defeat. you're impenetrable, you won't even admit that all you want is for someone to knock them down. but you've lost that long ago, and all you lose yourself into these days are men who only ever make it to your door, sent away with an empty promise and a deceptive kiss. you can't give away your key anymore, it hurts too much if you even unlock yourself for a second and take a peek inside. but for the most part you're doing well. you can't complain.
will i ever love anyone
the way i loved you?
she's the only thing keeping you going. you don't know how you would have ever survived without her; all smiles and joy and innocence and she doesn't look a thing like him but she reminds you of him anyway. sometimes you forget how you suddenly ended up with this girl living with you, but you're anything but ungrateful. she lights up any place she walks into, and even if she does not brighten you up the way he did at least a bit of her shine reflected on you. she is the best mistake you ever made, the best thing that ever happened to you, and inwardly, when you let yourself think about it, you hope he has someone like her to keep him from ruin. it's all you can do to wish he replaced you. it would hurt less to know that he's happy, at least; and while you're not, not yet, you're getting there. you have a little girl by your side to make sure you get there.
you aged
like fine wine
it's embarrassing that after all these years it's the first thing you think of, but fortunately you refrain from saying it aloud. it's not very you. that doesn't mean it's not true, though. he reminds you of that century old italian chianti you keep untouched in the cupboard because real life isn't good enough for it, and you aren't good enough for someone you weren't strong enough to hold on to. it's not wrong to look, right? to laugh about things you pretend you've gotten over? it's something people do to move on, even if the one they're trying to escape is right in front of them. it's embarrassing, and if it were only a handful of years ago you would have flushed as red as the bittersweet liquid in your glass, but it's now, and now is not the time to pine after something you were too stupid to let go of, but you can't help but wonder if that stare you can feel on your skin is someone trying to relearn a language forgotten.
and you
haven't aged a day
you blurt it out and you don't regret it, because a beat later he's grinning and you're certain it's more beautiful than the new york skyline, the mountains at the alps, than paris in the spring, even if you've never had the urge to go to those places like he had. you want to ask if he'd outgrown those fantasies or if he had fulfilled them, but between the two of you he was the one who was better at words. there's so much about him you want to know, so much of him you want to touch - there's no use denying that, now, you'd go to the grave with that love firmly implanted in your heart and you'd expect it to push through the soil and coil around your tombstone - but how? you converse and tease each other as if you both came out of the ordeal unscathed, but you notice the absence of a ring on his finger or the faraway look in his eyes when he talked about someone you had a right to be jealous of. you wish you could read his mind; maybe you still could.
i hope you knew
i always belonged to you
you're on your knees and it's taken more than a decade and thousands of miles to figure out you never wanted to be anywhere else. your mouth and your eyes and your heart are filled to the brim with him and you let it override your senses, heady and strong and human. he fists his hands into your hair like he wants to braid his fingers into them, so he won't have a reason to ever let go. it takes your breath away for a moment, the intensity of it, and you choke on him and stop. god, this is not the time to cry. he does not seem to mind; he lays you back down as if to say that the two of you had the rest of your lives to figure out how to make it right again. all you ever had to do was stop fighting.
it’s better to hear you say
that you’re mine
you’re inside him and only now do you understand his tears. it’s too much, too long; there are lines on your bodies and weariness in your bones that were not there before, but there are no new marks. it’s amazing, it’s disgusting, it’s beautiful, your push and his pull – a tide of legs and sheets and sweat and the moon shining on the roof above your heads. he still opens his mouth and closes his eyes the same way, dark features on stark skin and you want to bruise your name all over him to let the world know what you have, what they can only covet. but you don’t; there’s time for that later, time to know each other again, so much time you don’t know what to do with except waste on him. you bury your face into his neck and nestle your heart right beside his, and it is with one final cry that you match the wetness on his cheeks. it’s not over.
♠ ♠ ♠
Story dividers credited to florence.