I remember that it was raining and we were relishing it.
There we were, showering in what we were supposed to be afraid of. Everything was literally falling to pieces all around us and we were dancing laughing and hugging. In the median between heaven and hell I found her. She was slightly muddy and a little grey but with eyes you have to look in before you see any sort of truth in anyone elses. We looked at each other for the first time that day I think. And then we talked about it for hours and hours on end – probably seconds outside the median. We talked using the silence and manipulating it with our eyes to say something beautiful.
The world came back, it always does. We hugged. With my arms around her I willed my fingers to somehow transfer my understanding of what this was, of what she was. I said I love you instead and hoped the meaning of those words hadn’t been lost to the world yet. She let go and started walking toward her car. But then she stopped. She turned around and she said she loved me too. She said it with those eyes though. It was all in her eyes all along, in fact. Sometimes you need to listen to the silence to know such things. She was gone all too soon. I hope my eyes said said it all.
I hope I didn’t say goodbye.
