Exist Without Living

The bath was too hot. It burnt my dipping toes, so I had to let some water go down the plughole and top it up with cold. I think I have arthritis in the big toe on my right foot. It hurts when I walk, but not too much. Not enough to bother a doctor with. So I put up with the pain the same way I put up with everything else. After washing away my sins, I dried myself off and grabbed a can of beer from the kitchen. Then, sprawled on the mattress on the living room floor, I watched several videos on YouTube detailing the many theories regarding what lies on the other side of the observable universe. Most of them I’m familiar with, yet even so, they melted my brain. The place is just too fucking big. It makes the distances I perceive in my life seem petty in comparison. People I think are worlds away are merely a hair’s breadth from my fingertips. And with space so vast and unimaginably timeless, in comparison, I’m so small and pointless. All of my actions, as worthless as farts in the wind. But then I think back to when I first unlatched your bra, and to the night we shared a kiss beneath fireworks resembling shooting stars, and how blessed do these small miracles make me feel. I’m nothing but dust, yet these moments give meaning to the atoms in my bones that would otherwise exist without ever having lived.

X and I: A Novel and A Journal for Damned Lovers on Amazon UK

X and I: A Novel and A Journal for Damned Lovers on Amazon US

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