For Hunter. Happy Birthday.
I know you’re busy, but I got a few things to say.
I won’t take but a second, promise, just let me spill my heart to you for a moment. I have things I wanna say, to you specifically.
I know your birthday’s over and I honestly want to believe that I’m not too late. I wanna write this to you before that day ends but as you can see, it’s no longer your birthday.
I hope that’s okay. I hope you don’t mind me saying this only now.
Somewhere in Texas, a boy is awake in his bed, trying to fall asleep.
It is 4.30am in Dallas, Texas, but the boy is still awake,
He can feel the sink of his bed pressed against his back,
And he checks his phone, the light blinding him as he sees it, a message.
The message read something to the effect of “Do you think flowers have feelings?”
And of course, he isn’t obligated to answer but he might anyway. Or he might chuckle and roll back over, depending how awake he is.
Sometimes he answers. Sometimes he’s too tired.
Sometimes he stays up and wonders what his friend is doing.
4.30am in Dallas, Texas, 5.30pm in Singapore, both of them are awake and they both really want to go back to bed.
So they talk instead. About the weather. About the time. About games. About philosophy. When it is 4.30am in Dallas, Texas, nothing is off limits.
Time stalls when both are awake together at the same time.
Watching the same video,
Reading the same articles,
Time stalls because perhaps time isn’t real. Humans invented a way to measure time and it soon became a barrier between two friends, on opposite ends of the planet.
It is 6am in Dallas, Texas, and the boy is asleep.
It is 1.30am in Singapore and his friend is still thinking about how time is a construct. How time was invented by people.
And he says “Time is just a construct, so stay a while longer, friend.”
He says “I need you.”
He says “I can’t believe how much you mean to me.”
Two boys on opposite ends of the planet,
Never saw the other beyond the screen,
But they breathe the same air,
See the same sky,
So far, yet so close.