The Chosen.

Unfathomable

It's been two whole days since i last saw Tom's lips meet a bottle. Even though his body now remains devoid of alcohol, it also remains devoid of feelings. I was hoping the reason he was failing to grieve properly was because of the alcohol causing him to be numb but i think he still hasn't accepted that Bill is dead. His eyes often meet figures as they walk in the room and i notice his disappointment when the persons identity is revealed. I think he is truly and honestly waiting for his brother to come waltzing in the door at any moment.

"I need to talk to you." i tell Tom as he sits staring blankly out the window of the breakfast nook. He nods his head not breaking his gaze. His attention usually follows my voice so i know when it doesn't, something is really wrong.

"I know you've stopped drinking and it's great. I am so proud of you but i don't think you're healing."

"I'm trying." He sighs at my concern for him. I know he wishes i would just let him be, let him grieve and process things in his own way but i can't and i won't.

"He's not coming back." i starkly remind him, he seems to be taken back by my ability to read him. His eyes wander my face looking for any bit of an answer, but my expression leaves him nothing.

"How- Yeah- I know..." He stutters, still trying to figure out how i know what he is thinking, and to be honest so am I.

"How do you do that June?"

"Do what?"

"Always know what i'm thinking."

"I'm not sure, I did with Bill too." I bite my lip remembering our ability to understand each others needs and desires by silently communicating. Another reason it was so effortless to fall in love with him, communication was natural for us.

"The connection goes so deep..." he mutters, finally understanding what Bill and I were talking about. It's now beginning to hit him that him and i also share that kind of bond.

"Deeper than i think we can fathom." I whisper with an ache deep in my chest.