Years and Years

I sort of feel like posting more short stories (and eventually a few serials) on here, and you know, I totally will. Gotta stretch those writing muscles, or something like that.
Anyway, here's a little thing I wrote this evening! Let me know what you think! I'd really appreciate prompts, as well. They can be as simple as words or ideas, or as complicated as vague storylines you'd like to see fleshed out. Feel free to share!

Years and Years

They had known each other for years and years and years. To the pair of them, the beginning of their friendship felt like the beginning of the universe. It was like the Big Bang, the spark that ignited every last little thing. It was intrinsic and absolute; no universe could exist without their friendship, and that was the thing.

The pair had known each other since before they were born; their mothers had been in the same expecting mothers group, and they had been born on the same day. He’d been a trouble baby, kept under close watch while she thrived on the outside world. Once he got past that, though, he was perfectly fine. He was simply perfect.

They grew up together, spouting like evergreens and daisies. He grew tall and strong and brave, and she grew fine and delicate and braver. She saved him from the bullies, and he saved her from her own self-destructive tendencies.

The pair celebrated every birthday together, and it was the celebration of their eighteenth that broke their hearts.

It had become quite obvious to each in turn, truth be told. It clicked almost simultaneously as they danced at their birthday party, hands warm on her waist and his shoulder. It was the finality or a camera shutter clicking shut, or coffin lid banging closed.

It was the absolute saddest thing either had ever known.

Each saw it flash in the other’s eyes, and each felt their heart break. She was leaving in the morning, and he was staying behind.

But still, in the soft light of dusk, grass brushing their ankles, their lips touched so lightly.

It was a kiss that had waited for years and years, and when it came, it was the saddest kiss the world had ever known. It was a kiss that said either tonight or forever, no in-between. It was a kiss like ashes in their mouths, burned and forgotten memories and what-ifs.

So she touched his lips once again, letting the song play out, knowing all the while that all she could do was leave.

Decades later, their paths crossed, and she tasted ashes in her mouth again. Her husband and daughter smiled cheerfully enough at the old friend, and they caught up on each others’ lives, hearing the impossible possibilities threaded between each word.

They both went home that night, and they did not remember.