We were talking about our futures today.

Imagining in a year and a half,

scattered across the world we will be,

So far so distant yet only

A screen between you and me-

you, whom I survived with,

and You, who I wish were part of you.

We’re parallel lines in a fleeting space,

forever running, never embrace.

Inertia keeps us side by side,

through this tough high school ride,

so close but never crossing paths,

none willing to change the math and

exert this outside force

to cross our paths.

And I imagine, in a year and a half,

It would be too late to turn back

and fate will pull us onto diverging tracks.

I feel the pull

But it’s contradiction

A fragile truth in a broken fiction

Love and logic were never meant to meet.