It happens in a blaze of silence.
In the recounting of it, I am tempted to speak of voices raised and hearts wrenched apart by callous hands, of turmoil and shattering and grief. And those did exist, yes, but they alone cannot capture the entire crushing reality of it all. The deadness, the hollowness when my mother finds out about us and demands that I leave you, accuses me of corrupting my little sister. The sense of drowning in four feet of water, of immense horrible weakness when I comply. Perhaps I didn't love you enough to hold on. Perhaps I loved you too much to make you stay with someone who was always always hiding him/her/them/xirself like a distorted turtle when all you wanted was to be out and proud and glorious. Which version is true, it's impossible to say. Perhaps neither, or both.
At school the next day, I try to let you down gently, explaining the situation as quietly and as simply as I know how. "I think it would be safest if, in the short run, we went back to just being friends," I conclude, and study your face. You are always so expressive, but I see nothing. Not a trace of a reaction. I count the heartbeats, hollow, empty, as silence passes. You turn away, shrug, and toss the piece of me I entrusted you with back at my feet in a crumpled ball. It's over.
It's over.
Why can't I move on?
Days pass, then weeks. We do not speak. You and Kayla start dating, and more than anything I am happy for you. I cling, at first, to the idea that we could end up together again, but as weeks become months I realize that you are happy, like you deserve to be. And that's all I ever wanted for you.
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
Moments Captured, Moments Lost
कथेतर साहित्यI count the heartbeats, hollow, empty, as silence passes. You turn away, shrug, and toss the piece of me I entrusted you with back at my feet in a crumpled ball. It's over. Told through snapshots, fraught with emotion, and entirely true, this is th...
