love

The Seats We Don’t Question

It is curious how rarely we question the seats we return to.

Like the way a chair remembers us. The slight dip in the cushion that fits only one body. The way we return to it at the end of a long day without thinking, as though the chair had been waiting, holding the exact shape of our tiredness. There is a quiet relief in sitting down, in not having to adjust, in not having to become anything different from what we already are.

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At 6:30 pm, We Began Again

There is something about twilight that refuses to belong to certainty. It is neither day nor night. It does not announce itself loudly. It arrives quietly, almost like a knowing.

At 6:30 pm on the 26th of March, 1993, we stood in that in-between hour and stepped into a life we did not yet understand. We thought we were beginning a marriage. In truth, something else had begun its work on us.

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