I don't want to die.

That's what I told myself before pausing time. That's what I had told myself most times I used this power. Of course, it was usually less immediately dire. 'I don't want our relationship to die,' 'I'm going to die if I have to take this exam right now,' 'I don't want to die knowing I could've won this game of trivial pursuit with more time.' Those things all seemed important in the moment, I think. Perhaps they were.

I don't want to die.

And yet how long has it been that I've stared you in the face, my silver-toothed friend? How long have you waited to end the stupidly fast spiral of my thoughts? How can I remember only the immediacies of our struggle together: the way the light of some window glints at a 45 degree angle on your surface, how my arms are slightly pulled backward because I was unable to even pretend to defend myself. How-

I cannot look away. I believe I knew we would be in this still dance when I paused time. There are moments, blurry in the back of my mind, where I thought of solutions in a similar state. There was...must have been some sort of will in my bones, one that could make my mind's analytical ramblings true if it just tried hard enough. My bones, my body, myself.

It's funny, really. I can't even remember what I was wearing. I can't even remember my own name. I only really know you.

I didn't want to die.

I should be able to un-pause time whenever I desire, my friend. Perhaps it will be soon, perhaps we will stand here, in a disjointed and distanced embrace till the end of time. I don't know.

Because I cannot seem to desire. I have no idea what it means to live nor die, nor even the peace of closing my eyes. Would I miss this? Would I miss you?

For I cannot fathom what your imposed fear once felt like, and I'm sorry for that.

I'm sorry because all I do know is that we're here.

I hope you can be content in the silence.