We ate Devonshire tea in a café, on a verandah overlooking the bush. I felt sad, knowing that the weekend was coming to an end and I didn't know when I was going to see Jarvis again. He was quiet too.
I wanted him all the time, all to myself. But it was impossible. I was trapped in this life of mine and he was trapped in his life. Golden moments from the weekend drained through my fingertips and all I was left with was a puddle of brown murky water and confused, sad feelings.
We drove down the mountain in silence. He was concentrating on the road, the fog was thick and the headlights were on. The pit in my stomach widened around each bend we descended.
He parked the car in a side street in Burwood near a tram stop. He had 90 minutes to get to the airport. He took my hand and I felt his hand trembling slightly.
'You okay?' I asked him.
'Yes ... it's just ... I feel ... this is crazy, and I don't know if it helps or not. But I feel as though I love you.'
Lilac whipped me, taking my breath away. I couldn't answer him. Instead, I sobbed into his shoulder, quietly, despairingly. When, finally I could speak, I looked up at him, 'I love you too. More than I even knew was possible.' He had tears in his eyes too, because although we'd found each other, although we loved each other, we were at a complete loss of what to do with such a love.
We kissed once more, he squeezed my hands, and without another word I got out of the car. I crosssed the road, feeling his eyes on my back. I saw his car drive off and it was like I was losing a part of myself.