I sat on his musty, old couch, watching him pack bits of his life away. His clothes, his shoes, his music...one by one, they were all neatly placed into that bag. I watched him, yet he avoided my eyes. The way he moved around the room showed how much he was trying to forget that I was there, and forget, too, that anything was wrong. The brittle, careful distance between us was as easily felt as the silence in the room. Tears came to my eyes, unbidden, unexpected. It hadn't always been like this...mere weeks ago, the eyes avoiding me now had laughed with mine and been mine to drown in, stolen bits of blue sky that sparkled like stars. They didn't sparkle anymore. Not for me. Not for anyone.

I shattered the silence, unwilling to let him leave like this. "So where will you go?"

Still avoiding me, he gave his bag a little half-smile. "What makes you think I'm going anywhere?" Done packing, he moved to tidy up the room, habits from his military school days still strong.

He could mock me, even now? "Don't." He had always known how to pick his words and timing to make me angry. "Don't play that game, now now. It won't work."

He gave in, reluctantly. "Where am I going?" He shrugged. "I don't know."

"Well, how long will you be gone?" Was he deliberately toying with me, refusing to tell me what would ease my mind? Or was he truly just leaving, running, getting away at first chance?

"I'm not sure. I could be back tomorrow or this weekend. Maybe next week, maybe in a month. Maybe longer." He paused and when he spoke again, he was no longer speaking to me, but thinking out loud. "Yes, I think not for a long time - I need to get away from here." He looked around the room, then stole a glance at me. "Maybe never."

"Never?" I echoed. Dread gripped me.

He strode to the bed and sat down, wringing his hands and avoiding me once again. "I just need to get out of here, to get away from all of this. I can't stand this place, it's killing me." The vehemence with which he spoke took me aback. I studied him as he sat there, a tortured soul in baggy thrift store clothes, with shaggy blonde hair and those ridiculous square-rimmed glasses that somehow suited him nonetheless. Was it really so long ago we had been constantly at each other's side? He seemed a stranger - there was a bitterness to him now that was not part of the man I had first known.

Thinking of that brought back all of the reasons it had changed and I was suddenly struck by a new thought. The question escaped my lips before I could bring it back. "Is that the only reason you're leaving?" I was close to crying now, and hating myself for it. I didn't want him, of all people, to see me cry. But I had to know, no matter what the answer was.

He looked at me then, meeting my eyes, and for a moment it was as it had been between us. The hard mask he wore melted away in that tender look, seeing the hurt he was causing and regretting it. "I'm not leaving because of you." He spoke softly. "If anything, you're why I stayed this long."

I did start to cry then, as my heart sighed in relief. He came and held me, and I cried quietly into his shoulder. His arms had always felt safe and comforting.

Composing myself, I sat back and looked up again into his eyes. He brushed hair back from my face and wiped a tear from my cheek, cupping my face with his hand. I leaned into it for a moment, closing my eyes. When I opened them, he was watching me intensely, as if looking for a signal. I waited, thinking he was going to kiss me, wondering if I would let him. Surprised by my own thoughts, I looked down at my hands.

"You could come with me."

My head came up sharply as I looked to see if he was serious. He was, and still watching me with that look. My breath caught in my throat. To try to get back what we had been...he was offering it, another chance for us. For half a second, I was tempted. Then I bit my lip and looked down from his intensity. "You know I can't. I have a life here, I can't just leave." I looked back up, my eyes pleading with him. "You could have a life here, too."

Growling his frustration, he launched himself to his feet and just that quickly, the tenderness was gone. "No, I CAN'T have a life here, that's what I've been trying to tell you." He raked his fingers back through his hair, a familiar gesture of his that made my heart wrench.

Suddenly restless, agitated, he paced about the room. The bleeding silence descended on us once again. I watched him, speechless, unable to find something to say and afraid of making it even worse.

He stopped his pacing in the middle of the room, angst slowly giving way to determination. Or maybe resignation. He glanced at me and I could see that the stranger's facade had returned. That, more than anything, gave justification to my decision. We could not go back in time to undo and unsay all that had happened; we couldn't go back to the way things were before. We would just end up hurting each other even more.

His thoughts must have followed the same line as mine. Calm again, he nodded to himself once and went about finishing tidying up, icy distance intact once again. The quick casualness with which he did it almost made me want to cry all over again, for what was lost. But no. Not here, not when he was like this. I refused to cry anymore in front of this stranger.

I stood up to leave. He must have noticed, but said nothing. Done with his cleaning, he went to stand by the window, face expressionless. I dared not try to hug him goodbye, not with that stranger's face on; I couldn't bear the rejection I would surely get. Suddenly weary and at a loss for what else to do, I tried to break through the silence one last time.

"I can't go with you. It's impossible, we both know that." Nothing, no reaction. He stood looking out the window, for all the world as if I wasn't even there. I took a breath; last try. "I should go now, but I wanted to...I wanted you to know that wherever you end up going and however long before you make it back, I'll still hope to at least see you again someday." It was my parting peace offering, a chance for friendship at least, in place of silence. I waited a few moments, to see if he'd accept.

Nothing. He said nothing, only crossed his arms and continued gazing out the window. There was no acknowledgement that he'd even heard a word I said. Tears threatened again as I turned towards the door. Half of me wanted desperately for him to call out for me to wait, but the other half knew it was hoping in vain. I paused at the door anyway. "Goodbye," I said, and walked away. The door shut behind me with barely a sound. Silence it would be.

12/29/2002

Posted on 12/30/2002
Copyright © 2024 Amanda J Cobb