And not saying it.
“Cheers,” he says to me, late one Monday night. We had long, extensive conversations, played our cards close to the vest, revealing nothing, but exposing everything in metaphors and fragments. There was a lot of trust and understanding, and magic. But the only time we had spent together, since we met, totalled to less than 24 hours.
“What are we cheers-ing to?” I ask.
“To relationships that are doomed from the start,” he says laughing, knowing that in a few hours, he would be leaving. We knew how it would end, from the time it began. Clink.
“Oh wait, I don’t think I want to cheers to that,” I say.
“Too late, you just did.”
***Photos from expired film on a rangefinder camera, and a rehashed story.