I'm no stranger to pain
There's this odd little game that we play sometimes.
A game that seems simultaneously a universal dance for two but also utterly ours
The game is usually set in motion after some sort of catastrophe either viewed on TV or through hearsay
We'll look at each other, happy and safe in the couch/on the bed, but briefly imagine the other in that situation
The fear grips us at a safe distance- the knowing of us currently being safe but the knowledge of possibly losing the precious object a faint but threatening reality
Joel and Clementine flirted with this dance too
She would pretend to smother him with a pillow and he faked dead
until she pestered him enough that he awoke
like a modern day Lazarus
This play is all fun and games until the play becomes reality
At the thought of actually losing him, my chest seizes and I lose my breath
As long as death is a distant specter, the game remains fun
Mitigating the fake pain of a fake passing
