Intangible Entity of Self-Made Limbo

Forever living in our self-made state of limbo where nothing ever really begin or end. Forever believing that everything that stays in statis will live for eternity; our very own Schrodinger's intangible entity.

The two of us as the only population with unspoken understanding and inside jokes as our mother tongue. Romance and love are two languages that we do not speak. Our currency exchange is deepest secrets shared by deep sleepy eye contacts over endless serving of tea for me and sweet matcha for you. We breathe discussions and negotiations, everything else would be swallowed into black hole of uncertainty and impossibility. Finger-shaped bruises on our skin as conflict resolution, formed out of play-fighting and proximity. Disagreement agreement is a fable, enforced even further by over half a decade of radio silence. Our lost national treasure is trinkets of memories that often resurface every couple of weeks, yours come up more often than mine, but it baffles you every time mine reappear. Truest version of ourselves coexist here, even though mine gets updated in more times than yours. Security, stability, and safety are ensured within the context of the state.  Homing device is inherent when you enter this limbo, genetically unexplainable yet incurable and irrevocable. His familiarity often breeds spawns of unexplainable questions and my visage causes unresolved impusilve reactions.

We are inevitable, but our enmeshed lives in true reality will always be impossible.

In this true reality, my only souvenir from that intangible entity of self-made limbo is bruised skin in the shape of your fingers. Is it not enough that my heart mind and writings are full of your fingerprints that you decided to put them on my body too? It it an act of erasure and replacement of whatever that Best Friend had done in the past?