Maybe

And maybe we could really do it. Move out to the country together where the city air won’t touch us anymore. Maybe up in the mountains of Wyoming, or maybe there’s someplace here in Kentucky that’s just as good. Where the sky opens up and you can forget yourself in the trees and the clouds and the grass and the call of birds.

Where you can kneel down, feel the good earth under your hands, and just let go. Just be. Not to have to play some part you put on yourself, or the world puts on you, or both. Just breathe. Just breathe and let the tears come if they need to come.

We could walk together by the lake, hand in hand, and I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone seeing me holding your hand and thinking I was less of a man because of it or that I was only doing it because you wanted it. Because I do want that, and I want not to be afraid of wanting it. And maybe we could love each other, and even though things will never be perfect we’ll always be on the same side and not tear each other apart and feel like it’s really just a race to see who’s gonna be the first to break the other’s heart.

And maybe we could share the deepest darkest parts of our minds and our pasts with each other, and maybe we could use that knowledge to build each other up instead of just holding onto it to use as ammunition to hurt each other even more later on. And maybe we could really get to know each other, the way I haven’t let another human being get to know me for so very, very long. And maybe we’d be together not because we needed each other or were trying to use each other for something, but just because we make each other’s lives better.

And maybe I’d share my writing with you, before anyone else on earth gets to see it. And maybe you’d share your projects with me, because I know you’d have them even though I don’t know what they are right now. And in the evenings we might read Plath or Millay or Whitman to each other, or listen to music, or anything to keep alive that precious part of ourselves that remembers beauty and goodness and light, that loves life and knows there’s more to it than just marking time till you can finally die.

And maybe when I do something you resent you’ll let me know right away, and we can have it out then and there and agree to something we can both accept. And maybe when you do something I resent I’ll do the same. And we won’t take petty revenge on each other, or let a grievance fester for months or years until it bursts and wrecks everything all at once. And maybe when we have a grievance or need a favor we can be adults about it and not hold onto it as blackmail for the future or try to make each other feel guilty.

And maybe you’ll let me really know you, and maybe I’ll let you really know me, and maybe when we say “we” or “us” it’ll mean something more than you as an individual plus me as an individual. And maybe we’ll love each other, but in a way where we really benefit each other instead of clinging to one another to make up for what we lack.

And maybe we’ll make love, but it’ll be something meaningful we share, so the phrase “making love” doesn’t seem like a bad joke. Maybe it’ll feel like something shared between us, not like it’s something I’m taking from you. And maybe it’ll feel like something other than masturbating with the use of another person’s body as a prop.

And maybe… just maybe, we’ll bring a new life into this world. And maybe we’ll do it because maybe we’ll believe that maybe this life and this world are worth betting on. Because maybe, just maybe, it’s better to live this life, with all its pain, with all its uncertainty, with all its darkness, than never to have risen to the light of consciousness in the first place. And maybe, just maybe, the human race, for all its imperfections, is worth carrying on for another generation. And maybe it’s worth doing our part to make sure that happens.

And maybe our children will grow into strong boys and girls, and maybe they’ll become strong men and women without any undue disasters. And as we move into the autumn of our lives, maybe our children will live in a world where it’s still possible to live free and proud. And maybe when it’s time for one of us to leave this world, it will be easy and without undue regret or blame.

And maybe, just maybe, as you follow me or I follow you into the black of Night, we’ll rest easy knowing this life’s journey was worth taking.

Maybe.