“We suffer each other to have each other a while.”

“I don’t mind suffering as long as it’s really about something. I don’t mind great luck, if it’s really about something. If it’s the hollow stuff, then there’s no gift, one way or the other.”

― Li-Young Lee

I did not mind the heat that clung to our skin and the humidity that made the air gasp for breath. I did not mind the hollow cough that scooped into the insides of my lungs. I did not mind the aching sun, a voyeur peering in through the skylight.

I sat on the ground in front of the chair, head bowed before you. Our hearts islands, the usual bridge nowhere to be seen.

And yet I have minded too much, I thought. I dove back into the wreck when the treasures are what appear now in front of me. What I should have said is: I don’t mind suffering as long as it’s really about something. What I should have said is: I don’t mind suffering if it means we can have each other a while. Suffering and love are both temporary; which lasts longer?

What does forgiveness weigh as it sinks out of reach, and what color is it when finally it floats? The rain broke free from the sagging clouds and waltzed across the windowpanes. Your eyes opened. Adriatic blue.