The Definition of Perfection

It was decided that night that we would be. We had to be.
For a while he was mine and no one else's.
It was just us.
When we met by chance.
Or with a few words.
Or an invitation tossed through the open window. A peak outside to find him looking up. That smile that said, Let's go. I have a plan. I have a surprise. I have you and you have me. In this moment, if no other. This is the only thing that matters. Right now.
The world would fall away and we would begin. Us alone until dawn. Until there was no choice but for it to end.
Because there was a girl waiting at home. Who swore we were more than. I didn't know she was right. I didn't know you can be more without being more.
The closest we ever got was never enough. A long goodbye on the edge of a fall to something more.
We never jumped off.
But, inside, I fell every time.
The end that night, on the edge of the fall, was it.
Only a brief word, once, after.
Because how can you continue when it's over.
If you did, it wouldn't be perfect.
It has to be left behind. It has to stay like it was.
Taken to the edge. But never over.