At 2am, as we finish the Barefoot Moscato and the rose scented candles burn low -- that's when our demons come.
From the outside, no-one would ever know.
But on the inside, we are both falling at a thousand miles an hour, completely out of control.
We watch as the world speeds past us; blurred faces, destinations unknown.
We worry as those falling near us drift further away.
And we are scared of falling alone.
We both look instinctively for someone to cling to; someone who will share our fall.
We promise to hold them forever; we promise to never let go.
And for a time, we focus on each other, and we forget that we are falling, at all.
Until we finish the Barefoot Moscato and the rose scented candles burn low.
We wonder whether we will push each other away. Maybe we’ll just drift apart.
And we hold each other closer, and pretend we’re not thinking, at all.
Instead we pretend to ponder if there's a safety net at the end of the fall.
"Why would we fall, with no-one to catch us?" they say.
But why would we fall, at all?