Let’s say this is a true story and you know the ending.
She thinks to herself I can’t help it, there is no timeline where I don’t follow the drum and you can warn her, Don’t fall in love with the music. Don’t walk into the sun.
You can try.
Instead, you follow. In this room, there’s a table. Across from her, a ghost. She asks him who are you? - he says you’re not listening.
There is silence at first, until she hears it. A rhythm in the distance that makes her jolt, pale as the soft light he is seated in. You know what she’s thinking because you’ve been here too, you remember now. Not again.
But there is always running, running, running and her bones are tired. She turns around and asks who are you?, desperately wanting to hear something other than what she knows is coming.
Though, they both know what the answer is. They are the same entity at different tables.
The one who walks away
So she stays and saves him a seat anyway, thinking that this time, something will change. And you go to sleep dreaming the same thing.
She wakes up in the middle of the night, hearing whispers. One of them says drunkenly
I did know. I knew it all along.
Knew what?
I don’t know… that I love you.
And she will be left forever wondering if she heard him correctly.
Rubbing her eyes, she looks to the corner of the room. He is standing there.
Well. Did YOU know?
And they both know the answer to that. They are the same entity in different rooms.
It’s not your fault.