Silent Souls (Wattys 2014)

Chapter Ten

Him

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ she’d told me.

Funny how things can change so unexpectedly in the space of a few minutes. Sitting here, in the corner of the lounge, I struggle desperately to find some scrap of humour in the situation.

I don’t succeed.

And I keep going over her words – ‘I’m not going anywhere’ – in an attempt to find where exactly things went wrong. Was she lying? Had she planned it all along?

Had she planned on stealing my heart?

It’s just about when I think I’ve cried myself dry that more tears come.

God, you’re so stupid, my head says.

I know, a little voice inside me replies.

Her

It’s quiet out here. It’s Silent.

There’s not a single word out there I can find that describes how I’m feeling right now.

Heartless. Monstrous, maybe.

Because he gave me his heart, and I took it and destroyed it like a piece of rubbish between my own two hands.

Because I told him I was going to stay, and then I left.

Because he told me he loved me, and I didn’t say it back.

But there was something about his eyes – the look in his eyes as I told him I was sorry, knowing as I did so that no apology was enough close enough to suffice for the irreparable damage I was doing to him.

But there was something about that look in his eyes that makes me want to go back.

His door’s open.

The second I step through, I immediately tell myself that this is a mistake. I’ve already hurt him enough; being here is only going to hurt him even more.

It takes him a while to notice me.

He’s curled up in the corner, and he looks so small. His hair’s dishevelled, and his head’s in his hands. His shoulders are shaking with silent tears.

And then he sees me.

Him

At first I think I’m going crazy. I mean, that’s what love does to you, right?

Her

He looks confused at first.

‘Oscar.’ His name drops like a stone from my tongue, paradoxically softly into the silence hanging heavily between us.

Then the smallest of smiles touches his lips. Something about it brings back everything from before, leaving me completely regretting why I left in the first place.

When I ask myself why, I remember.

It’s because he doesn’t know about me. Not yet.

Tell him, my head says.

I want to, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid that if I tell him, he might not love me anymore.

But that’s how he felt earlier, isn’t it – when he wanted to tell you that he loved you? And in the end, he did.