We stared at the dilapidated mess of splintered feelings and burnt heart strings sitting the backyard. Neither of us knew what to do. You called with the intention of helping me rake up the pile of angry screams and confused stares. And I had let you, because days of pulling the tool through the dirt by myself left callouses that hasn't fully hardened. We didn't speak, fear of puncturing our finally found peace treaty lingering in the air. Occasionally the rake would glide through an old shared joke or scene and we'd sigh in relief of the familiarity, and the ease. It was only when a few rocks were snagged that I'd stub my ego and slip out a backhanded jab at the anger I still felt. I saw the scratches and bruises you'd try to hide, but I needed to see. I needed them to be real.
The blanket which shielded us from the dew-damp grass couldn't shield me from what I wanted to say. I couldn't let you inside the house to talk; I couldn't risk it. We hadn't even planned on the picnic but eventually the shards of the shed were piled a little more neatly next to the charred ground. You fiddled with your words, twisting that ring around your hand like a magic lamp that you hoped would eventually give you guidance. The clink that sounded when the metal hit the empty China plate sitting in between us was almost deafening. Neither of us knew why you still had it. I could only hope on theories with no experiments. A folded up piece of paper seemed to way more than just your wallet down, and I stared at my own handwriting plastered over it.
The silence that followed after I delivered my soap box speech left me unsure of where to place my feelings. I had wanted so badly to re-sew seeds into a new plot, water then with conversation and understanding, and watch that garden grow. I knew it wouldn't be the same. I knew the burnt remains of the shed would always linger in the background every time we'd take turns pulling arguments and misunderstandings from the roots of the flowers. But I wouldn't know what the soil was capable of until I tested it.
My alarm would go off in a few short hours for work, and I could feel your shoulders heaving hurried sobs into my neck.
"Damnit"
What?
"I miss you"
