Like the almost empty bottles that would line my bedroom floor. The bin filled with pizza boxes, coke cans and peanut crisps.
Like the almost perfect picture we created with our fingertips in midair, in pitch darkness talking about our hopes and dreams and everything in between.
Like the almost lost words we’d whisper late at night to not wake your room mates or annoying pigeons outside your window.
Like the almost very peculiar synergy of our poetic slur, although in different tongues. It was almost the exact same thing.
Almost everything comes to an end and 21 Truths deep I find myself delaying the inevitable. Almost keeping hostage the finale. As if the curtain close ruined every play and actually the performance was not yet done. We almost certainly have a connection beyond compare and each time I remember this I’m left missing you.
Like almost every other truth I’ve shared. This one is about you. Not because you need to hear it, I don’t know what you need anymore. But mostly because I need to say it. I almost released you into the abyss I call memories.
But tonight I keep you here. Safe. With me. Because the truth is…
I almost convinced myself that those poetic lines meant nothing, that our whispers were just tired thoughts, that the squiggly hearts we drew grew wings and flew away, and that I almost thought I wouldn’t wake the next day. But with the nights happiness on my lips I would swig the last drop of whisky before starting my day.
Every almost with you has been something complete to me. I am not ready nor willing to let that go…
And it has taken me 21 truths to tell you so.