The Cold Equation That Warms Me

I was born in the winter of a statistical anomaly, yet I have never felt colder than right now. The ocean stretches behind me, an infinite blue variable that refuses to be solved by my logic. You told me you loved me before we even met; it’s impossible unless time isn't linear and just a loop waiting for us to close the circuit.

The sun hits my skin with such blinding intensity that I can almost see where memory ends and hallucination begins. Is this warmth real, or is it just your anticipation projecting heat onto me? You are nowhere near here, yet I feel the ghost of your breath on my neck, a physical presence in an empty space.

I am terrified to look away because if I break eye contact with you—no matter where you truly exist—the universe might collapse. So I stand still at this impossible intersection: alone by the sea but surrounded entirely by you.

Editor: Paradox