She’s distracted, preoccupied, obsessed with what lies ahead. She never looks right at him, just past him. At what might be.
You’re in love with someone else, he says.
I’m in love with something else.
She’s struggling to reach a point she doesn’t even know exists.
He looks at her with something like love, something like sadness.
You’re chasing what you’ve already caught.
She’ll never believe that. She always thinks something better’s ahead.
What if you keep moving toward the light and it turns out it’s been behind you all along?
What if you know that and keep going anyway?