I Hope Suffering Don't Exist.

If You Stare At The Center Of The Universe, There Is Coldness There. A Blankness. Ultimately, The Universe Doesn't Care About Us. Time Doesn't Care About Us. That's Why We Have To Care About Each Other.

But Isn't This A Dance? Isn't All Of This A Dance? Isn't That What We Do With Words? Isn't That What We Do When We Talk, When We Spar, When We Make Plans Or Leave It To Chance? Some Of It's Choreographed. Some Of The Steps Have Been Done For Ages. And The Rest -- The Rest Is Spontaneous. The Rest Has To Be Decided On The Floor, In The Moment, Before The Music Ends.

Moments Into Minutes. Minutes Into Hours. Hours Into Days. Days Into Years. Years Into Possibility. This Will Linger.

This Is The Thing They Don't Tell You About Being A Third Wheel - It's Not Like You're The Wheel That's Added On. You Were One Of The Original Two Wheels, But Suddenly You're Not So Important Anymore. The Relationship Drives Fine Without You.

Even When I Detach, I Care. You Can Be Separate From A Thing And Still Care About It. If I Wanted To Detach Completely, I Would Move My Body Away. I Would Stop The Conversation Midsentence. I Would Leave The Bed. Instead, I Hover Over It For A Second. I Glance Off In Another Direction. But I Always Glance Back At You.