We were kissing and I was thinking there was no way it could be her. But she only wasn't when I stopped. And then I wasn't sure if she was ever who I thought she was at all. And now I may never know, because I had to stop to find out. And that's not the kind of question you can ask a person. To ask them who they are, to see if your answers align, to see the look on their face when the answer is inevitably other and they see the look on yours.
And she would ask me what is wrong. She would call me darling, sweetheart, dearest. And I would have to look at this person and say some sort of truth. Starting all over, hoping as much is the same as could possibly be.
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