“Awesome”, he says. And your body tells you to wrap your arms around him and press your ear against his back to hear what he sounds like on the inside. So you do. He stops talking but continues to stir, telling you without words that what you’re doing is allowed. That this is a precedent which is ok to set. You tell him that you missed him. He does not respond. Maybe what you think is ok is really just tolerated. You ask yourself, how long am I willing to pretend the things which are not mine could ever be? And that those rules in place, however arbitrary they may be, are still fucking rules? Laws, even. Instead, you imagine it is the weekend and that none of this matters. That the private time he needs away from you, the time that he does not explain, is really just time he goes off to spend with some other version of you, the version that he will take care of. Because that’s all he wants from life. Because his body tells him to. You imagine for an instant that you are the Other You, and that today is that day. This is why you do not let go of him, even though it is hot in here and there is sweat starting to form underneath your clothes, even though you have not done this before. “I missed you too”, he finally says, softly, but you don’t even notice. He’s been saying it in your mind ever since you got here.

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Tags: Coldplay, cover, Sara Bareilles