Timing


_____

They say that the timing isn’t right.
They say that “I wish I met you earlier,”
That maybe if we had met sooner, then things would be different.
That I wouldn’t feel reminiscent of moments of realistic fiction.

That first “pint” we had was like a ticking clock,
I don’t drink often but I ordered a rum and cola,
Hoping to soothe the drumbeats in my chest
To liquor up the butterflies in my gut
The second that I requested alcohol
That wasn’t intended for a drunken night,
I knew that I liked you.
But that love could never have grew into what I wanted it to.

Call me a fool for growing attached to people who continue to leave
Hey, I guess I’m leaving too,
The lack of commitment is a given when the timer’s ticking
Only proving true that nothing could come of this.
Nothing can result from this kiss except for the realisation of sexual tension I wouldn’t really like to admit,
But how can I deny that every moment intimate is only fuel to grow resistant to reasons to stay away from this.
How can I do anything but be persistent in finding a lost cause-
I clench my fist,
Wanting to punch the clock for the “bad timing.”

It’s not for the lack of trying
I’ve tried to not be dazzled by new people,
Experiences,
Aspiring to novel places and better souls that must exist in this realm
Yet having you here in my arms,
In my presence
Stroking your long hair, effervescent
Is like an early Christmas present that I opened too early
And the gift is being punished by distance.

Or rather,
Circumstance.
Nobody thinks about the future when they’re out dancing,
Passing motions glance like atoms sifting through each other
And once they hit, chemistry only makes the reaction greater.
I’ll think about what’s to come later-
Because it’ll only ruin the night.

I suppose this is what it’s like to be Cinderella
Fleeting fancies prance around magical in temporary bliss
Missing the fact that they aren’t real in a plane of consistency.
Whether it’s when the clock strikes 12, or when the calendar strikes off another month
The season of misty eyed memories perishes with it
An endless list of tasks to tend when this to-do list disintegrates.

Sigh…
I grow continually confused.
Is the bad timing what attracted me to you?
When expiration dates come too close
There’s an urgency to compromise
Despite not genuinely wanting to.

I actually have no clue
Of who I like, and what to do.

I guess I just wanted intimacy.
But I look too much at my watch to allow myself the courtesy to enjoy it.
Time passes so fucking fast when there’s a limit to what you can or cannot accomplish, be paid a gentle visit from the constant reminder of a “deadline”-
A blatant sign that these feelings will die with time as well.

It wasn’t meant to be, probably.
It wasn’t there, truly
It takes time to get to know people properly
To gain in my affections a monopoly
A wealth of private attention that hardly ever gets reciprocated.
So why would it start now?

The time isn’t right for us. There is no us to begin with anyways.
So as we part ways eventually, I’ll imagine every footstep as a measurement to gauge the accumulating detachment that I must feel.
Cut that string that I hoped we made a connection on.

And move on, like the minutes of the hands of time will forever strike upon.
Forget the details of your life, the interests that we shared, the philosophies which we cared for and what challenges we dared to attack.

I’ll move right back on track to the silence in the gaps where ticks used to be.
And I’ll have a nice cup of tea wondering what life could be…

If the timing was right.

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