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One Day

One day, we'll look back on this.

At the nights we spent laughing about nothing, sitting in circles on yours or mine or somebody else's dorm floor, spinning a bottle and ignoring what it told us to do; like when you flip a coin to make a decision, and it lets you know what you really wanted after all.  We'll look back at that time we dressed up for no reason and had the neighbors take our photograph - all dressed up with nowhere to go.  About the spontaneous day trips to the beach when May rolled around and it seemed like finals were suffocating us - like summer would never surface and all we needed was a day away from the text books.  About the time we found a book on how to read palms, and spent hours perfecting our "craft".  And how after that, you read the palms of every boy at every party or bar we went to, telling them how deep their love line looked.

About the times we felt like each others' families silently comforting, or speaking words that seemed like wisdom when they were asked for.  Or the night I called you, unable to make the words come out in order, and you came anyway because you know what I meant.  About the funerals we attended for one another, just a hand to hold, mourning a person we didn't know but you did.  

We'll remember the ways we met, but our memories will never be quite like the reality, and the lines will blur between separate occasions and different people.  We'll forget what those first few weeks felt like - the weeks before we had each other, and after we'd left our families behind.  We'll forget the details of the nights spent alone, only to remember the ones that came after you knocked on my door and asked me to get lunch with you.

We'll look back on the years we spent whispering about our futures, never knowing quite how different they'd be from what we dreamt. And we'll wonder: where did the time go?  When did we change our dreams to fit our reality?

When did we move out of the messy apartment with the absent landlord, and into the studio flat down the street from our new jobs?  When did we get engaged, and play maid-of-honor to one another's weddings, crying silently as we zippered the back of a gorgeous white gown, because we always knew it would be you and him.

When did we forget about the moments we first met, about the long nights that made us like family?

One day...we'll look back, and we'll wonder.
Where did the room with the white walls and the stained gray rug go?