Paper Cuts

And somehow, on the way home with him I think to myself, “Wow this is déjà vu like. Now how does this one end?”

I strain to remember what the outcome of the evening, of the entire relationship, would be. I know it was something sad, but then again, bitter sweet? Or just sweet?

It was strangely familiar the entire scene: Honolulu city lights, winding up the road to my house, a nervous tension between us, the air conditioner carrying the scent of a time before when we’ve done this and been that.

I can’t tell if this is my first time in this car at this moment, or if I am just playing out a well memorized movie script in my head. Maybe I’ll just wake up. But then I’d miss being there in the car with him and having this moment. Even if it is only vaguely familiar and I have no idea what my next move will be…