Indigo

4/10/15

I used to think he knew me better than knowing me. That whatever thought occupied my mind, found a way into his.

When he watches me walk through the park, I wonder what he's thinking. I don't take any guesses, they would all be as wild as coyotes. At this point I know any guesses he makes about my thoughts would be wild too.

He stretches out his arms and pulls me into an awkward hug, patting my back in the steady rhythm of time. I laugh.

"What?" he asks.

"Nothing."

"I'm trying."

I look at the mountains and watch the sun reflect off of the brush. I can remember a time when trying was enough. I can remember a time when enough was our fingertips grazing when he walked by my side.

"What's it like?" I ask.

"What?"

"Rehab, therapy."

"It's quiet." He says.

"Like you."

"I may be quiet but I've never lived a quiet life."

"So then, what do you do?"

"We talk and I think. Sometimes I read. On really hard days, I pretend that Logan never died and that nothing really changed."

"You think of me like a possession, don't you?"

"Yes." He pulls out a cigarette, lights it, and then dangles it by his side. "I have trouble imagining a future now. That's the difference between us."

"The difference?"

"You look forward to the future."

"What makes you think that I do?"

"I don't know. I'm not wrong though."

"No, you're not." He nods, bringing the cigarette up to his lips, inhaling. Then blowing smoke out. "So you don't."

"No."

"You don't look forward to seeing me?"

"I'm not sure I should consider that the future."

"Yeah, I guess you shouldn't."

"I know at one point you saw a future there, with me and."

"Logan?"

"Yes."

"Of course I did."

"I saw it too."

"No. You saw ownership. That's different than what I saw."

"I never said it was the same."

"You implied it."

"What did I imply was the same?"

"That you wanted a relationship. That wasn't what you wanted though, was it?"

"Well no. Stability and consistency were. I guess."

"You had your consistency."

"That's true. You gave me that."

"I still do."

"I guess that's true too." He watches me while I watch him take a drag on his cigarette and flick ashes to the ground. They fall slowly and straight. Their own contribution to his stability. "Look," he says "I want a lot from you and anything I ask for would be too much."

"I wish you would have asked."

"You wouldn't have said no. You still wouldn't."

"I might."

"No, Sadie."

"I still loved you and regardless of what you say, you let me."

"You didn't always love me."

"I know."

"When did you start?"

"I don't know."

"You do."

I sigh "When I found out about Logan, I guess."

"I'm sorry, I can never tell you how sorry I am." I start crying. I watch the tears fall into my lap. He doesn't console me, I don't want him to.

We sit in silence for a long time, a long time after I've stopped crying. I ask "Does it annoy you when I cry?"

"Yes."

"What do you want from me?" I search his face for something that I've tried to give up finding.

"Everything."

"I don't even know what that means."

"Everything that I can't give myself."

I don't say anything. He lights another cigarette. I think about him and her and wonder if he even remembers anything about that day. I begin to hope that he doesn't.

I stand up to leave without a word.He doesn't say anything either.