Can We Be Wrong Tonight

Cry

And was it really all worth this

Heartache handed to me...

                                   -- “Cry”, Jason Walker

I don’t need to turn around to know he follows me painfully, watching my sluggish movements. He’s studying my every step closely as if to memorize them, as if he can imprint them in his brain. I know what he wants me to say. I know what he wants me to do, but I can’t. 

I look at the entrance to the next chapter of my life. I move towards it, but he grabs my wrist. Surrounding it he pulls me back to him, effectively suffocating me in his hug. 

“Don’t go, “ he whispers, his breath tickling my ear. His hold is strong and sturdy as if trying to hold up my ever weakening body. I just want to tell him that I’m still here. I’ll always be here. I’ll always come back to here. But we both know that’s not true. So instead I pull away, not meeting the penetrating gaze of his chestnut colored eyes. He doesn’t hold me back, but he doesn’t let go until I’m far enough away that I’m stretching his arm toward the entrance. 

Finally he releases me and I walk away without a word because I know that one word will hurt more than the distance itself. The word would mean it’s real, if I walk away it means I’m running. I don’t mind running away, if it means it gets me out of here without a tear shed. I don’t mind running away because it means I might have to come back eventually. 

Once I’m through the entrance I stop and turn back. I can see him, he’s standing in the same spot. His eyes trained to follow me. We stand there looking at each other for a minute, only fifty or so feet apart, but worlds away. With a last shrug of my shoulders I turn around. I don’t even wave knowing full well that it would break me to wave goodbye to him. It would break me just as much as it would be to say it to his face. And like that we’ve lost each other.