Worlds apart

'Big love'. That's how he puts it these days. Big. Or 'huge', sometimes. I can't surpress a giggle when it's that.

Love. It comes in so many different flavours, not all as wonderful as you'd hope. I love him, but I'm not 'in love'. He loves me, but he doesn't 'love me too'. We're mismatched every way.

We've spent a year not talking, just declaring our big love to and fro. Brief and hurried spurts of affection, accentuated with a kiss: X marks the spot. Oft at the oddest hours and in the darndest place. And always worlds apart.

I wonder what makes him think of me in these moments and how strange it really is that in a way, this way, I'm with him all the time. But then he is and has been with me too. Not so strange after all. Unreal.

Surely we've reached the limit of our declarations. God knows how it all will end.

Or maybe there's no end. Maybe we'll go on and on and on. Like the sun and the moon. And the stars that we are.