Lasting a very short time.
I just picked you up from work, you together with your officemates, and you guys were hungry–wanting to go on a food trip. You asked me if we could drive somewhere far–a mini roadtrip as you put it–and I was okay with that. But you took my silence as a “no” and asked if it was really okay with me or if I was mad. I stopped for a red traffic light. I was about to tell you that it really was okay, that there’s no way for me to get mad at you since I really wanted to spend time with you as much as I could. So to add sincerity to what I was about to say, I turned to face you, but you were already looking at me with those eyes.
They say that eyes are windows to the soul, but when I looked into yours, I saw the death of me–the end of life as I knew it. And there, in that arbitrary moment, my past made sense, every minute before this had to happen so that we could end up in this very moment of me looking into your eyes and you looking into mine.
The words I was wanting to say escaped me, and all I could do was smile. The lights changed to green and the world started spinning all over again.