(With apologies to Alexis de Tocqueville)
What happens after we fight? After the Revolution, was there ever a point? Do we fight for anything? Why do we fight? How do we manage to convince ourselves everyday that this is worth it?
If only you knew how everyday, all I’d wish for is that you could be with me. How much it hurts to think you’re not beside me now. Or how on some nights, I can’t even reach you. I told you, I promised, I won’t let any night pass that we’re not okay. I don’t want to keep you waiting, but we’ll get there together right? We’ll be together soon.
The Revolution only made the inevitable happen sooner. If this nation of ours is bound to break eventually, then let it be, one by one. If that’s what all these nights are for, I don’t want a Revolution. I don’t even want to fight. We never asked for those rough nights. We never asked for the distance.
But I asked for you, no matter what happens.
If we’ve got to pick up our arms, then let it be against the odds, against the giving up on us. I’m not giving up on you. I’m not letting this go.
I woke up one morning. You were beside me. We were like we fell asleep. You were cuddled to me and my arms were around you. This is our pretend home. Our pretend bed. Our pretend real. But I know it was real. I know we made it happen. I was feeling for your hands to hold. I was feeling for your warmth to embrace. You woke up and kissed me. And I fell for you again.
I asked you, when we woke up.
Where do we go from here?
“Forever?” you said.
“Forever,” you said.
So what’s the point in all of this? After we break ourselves? After we pour our hearts out? When we’re nothing but tired and worn and weary? When all we want to do is tear down these walls between us? When we’ve nothing to do but lay down our arms and let ourselves settle? After the wounds and scars and fatalities that become us? What happens to us after all these words and actions, after I’ve stretched out so far to get to you?
What happens the morning after?
I don’t know.
I just want to wake up next to you.