something I was thinking

[angreepoet]

You had said you wanted to save my soul. Or maybe you had said that, and what you had meant was that you just didn't want me to leave. I know how you feel. I can recall driving in your old truck, after your accident, and thinking that maybe I could live without you but I could not die without you. At the time, and sometimes still now (though, I will admit, the thought holds a certain amount of romance to it) I think that this was an odd notion to have. To the living, mortal world we are two bodies in orbit; we are sentient, organic compositions that have an expiration date stamped on our foreheads; but outside of that, what are we? One would think we would be more concerned with now. With respiration, with the healing of wounds, with scar tissue, bone density, and wheather we need glasses. But no. No, we worried about afterward. Assuming there would be one. Taking for granted the fact that ghost stories exist, and so must we beyond ourselves, we looked into ourselves and saw only that dying slowly one year at a time was nothing in comparison to eternity without the other. How novel.

I thought about that last night, when you told me - near panic - that you didn't care what I beleived or how I did so, but that I did beleive because there would be nothing left for you otherwise.

I am a sullen thing, and you know this. None the less - and all other previous sentiment aside - I beleive. I beleive if I am involuntarily compelled to fear the loss of you AFTER the loss of you, there is something worth beleiving in, and that something lives inside of me not because of me, but because of you.

So maybe you did save my soul after all. I suppose we will both find out eventually.