a love letter

dear you,

i watch the reflection of the car in the windows as we drive home, and try so hard to commit these scenes to memory. every laugh, every worry. it feels as though we have not had enough time. they sing songs we’ve heard a thousand times before: it is here i know that we are absolute. nostalgia resounds in moments that aren’t even over yet – i want to live here forever. i want to live in this connection, in this reassurance that i am loved.

“sometimes change can be good,” one of them tells me, about something completely unrelated. i hold on to her words, but the fear of losing what we have created eats me whole. my tears are filled with the uncertainty of what is to come. i can’t help but wonder what kinds of people we will be in the future, the incredible things i will get to see them do. but for now i will sink my teeth into every moment i can get, do everything in my power to hold on to the present. what is to come will come, as it always does; all i can do is live in gratitude for the friendship we have cultivated.

i will remember the first time we met, perhaps the second, but not the third. things are always forgotten, just as the months always end. yet i will not forget how they make me feel, how my words are listened to and my worries are remedied. even as details fade, the love i have for them shall never.

yours, kate

(artwork: the card players by edward portielje)