OPP

We really only borrow each other.

What’s mine is yours is yours was mines was someone else’s before us. Our entire lives are said to be on borrowed time so how could we ever say ‘you’re mine’ and actually believe it?

We really only borrow each other.

I’ve smiled while shaking hands whose nails have dug into the back of my own lover. Palms as sweaty as mine as we lock eyes and I imagine they’re recalling their once upon time.

We really only borrow each other.
 
Make new memories in spaces that are vaguely familiar. Sit at tables knowing you’ve already been there. History doesn’t always repeat sometimes it slightly mimics. Pushes layered limits.

We really only borrow each other.

Promises that go unkept. Wishes unfulfilled. Tears spilled. Spark killed. All become the blueprint for success with whoever comes next. Then again. And next.

‘I am only responsible for my own heart, you offered yours up for the smashing my darling. Only a fool would give out such a vital organ’
Anais Nin said that… and the fact is

We really only borrow each other darling, and there’s never a guarantee that we’ll be returned to ourselves intact.