She faced him in the dim light of the morning, underneath a halo of rain and murky clouds as they stood on cobble stones surrounded by skyscrapers; and told him she didn’t care.
He rushed inside his soul, looking for a way out. Something to say that would make her care. Something to bring up. A memory, a moment, anything that would fill her eyes with something other than placid unyielding content.
But she beat him down again as she rolled her loveless eyes and turned.
“It’s late. Or early. Either way I’ve got to go now.”
Every word was convincing and he couldn’t stand being convinced. It was late, or early. And either way she did have to go, because she’d already left.
They were steps away from each other yet in the blink of an eye or the breath of a word they became worlds apart. She was gone. Eternally, emotionally and in every way; she was gone.
No longer his.
In that way he realized she never really was, his. She was only renting.
His heart was on lease to her and she decided not to buy. Instead she took her belongings – the memories and the smiles – and packed them away in her silhouette as she made her way out of his life and into a disappearing city.
Did he stand there for hours, or moments, or a breath? it didn’t matter. Sooner or later even he had to leave.
He turned one last time and saw them standing there. They were a shadowy memory. Figments and dust dancing in the morning light and soon they too disappeared as the golden rays ricochet and found their way through the fading picture.
Would he ever mend, would she ever say hello, would they ever love again. Who knows, really.