Nothing Has Really Changed

 

I laugh at your jokes until my stomach hurts. The old ones, the new ones, the ones only we understand, all of them. Because I don't know if I'll be quick enough to catch my breath the next time I shake with laughter next to you. Quick enough to realise that life goes on, people get separated and grow apart. It's bittersweet, all these years of friendship, all the spaces of comfort not being as direct as it used to anymore. I'll have to move to a new home. We'll have to schedule our meet-ups from now on. And part of me is scared that we'll just become another guest. That physical distance will distance our souls as well. I wonder if we'll ever be able to giggle the same way, that's why I laugh right now until my throat is raw. But one thing I realised is, this isn't goodbye. This isn't the last time. It's simply...distance. Our meet-ups being less accessible. Going on with our lives. Except it doesn't mean you have to stop being in mine, and I have to stop being in yours. Sure, we won't talk on the same sheets, same staircase, with the same pillow fights, same sunsets peeking through the window. Distance will make our meet-ups scheduled. But our laughter to stupid jokes at 3am? We know quite well that it is anything but. So maybe the next time we do it, despite our age, despite the circumstances, despite the place, despite the years passed by, we'll laugh at another one of those stupid inside jokes and think that nothing has really changed.