To me, love was about time.
To her, love was about adventure.
She would often bring me to places where we would gaze at the stars and laugh and cry about all our problems. I was the dreamer, and she was the traveler.
She didn’t know about my problem. There were days before I met her that I wouldn’t even leave the house for weeks for some unknown fear of judgment of the outside world. But all of that changed when I fell in love with her.
“Do you sometimes think that we’re all just passing time?” I asked her.
“What do you mean that we’re all just passing time?” she asked me back.
I don’t know, I replied. Like how every moment we feel is already memory. And we’re all just hurtling towards oblivion. Like none of it matters.
“Do you know why I love gazing at the stars so much?” she asked me.
“Why do you love gazing at the stars so much?” I asked her back.
A million stars being so bright that I’m no longer afraid of the darkness of the night, she replied. Like there’s nothing in the world that I should fear. Not even loving you, she added.
And then I kissed her under a million twinkling stars that my fear of passing time began to melt away. At that moment I understood that forever could be measured in just a few seconds as her fear of the darkness began to melt away.