Over the phone, he said, "The difference between liking someone, and falling in love with someone, is that you die for the former, and live for the latter."
"Say it again," I told him.
He laughed and repeated himself.
I love how we live within our own construct of time. Today I bought a 2010 organiser because I forgot that it was the year 2009. No shit. He stopped walking because he was laughing so hard and didn't know whether to grab me and kiss me or whack me on the head for being so silly.
We repeat ourselves:
"Are you hungry?" he would ask.
"Are you hungry?" he would ask again.
"Yes, yessss I'm hungry."
And we erase the things that we've said before:
"I hate you," I would tell him.
"You better take it back before you regret it."
"You sure?" he would repeat.
And then I would slip my hand into his'.
"Thought you hate me?"
"Since when did I say that."
We slip into different time zones and memories and personalities. We create fictional storylines and character traits and we live them out. Like how you fell for me the first time you saw me. (You thought I was a slacker who was always disappearing.) And how I adored you the first time I set eyes on you. (I thought you were so vain, and clueless about what you really wanted to say.) Like how you've always noticed me, from the corner of your small bright eyes, and how I've always noticed you, from the corner of my dreamy goldfish eyes, but we had to wait more than a year just to get the right moment to talk to each other. It's funny, and very sweet.
Two crazy, strangely deluded people in an unbreakable bubble.