He caught himself looking outside the window once more. There were the clouds that so reminded him of her cheeks. There was the sun that had shone down so brightly on her that tanned her so darkly. There was the blue sky, the color she had painted his cheeks with as they sat together.
He saw himself in the reflection of the window, frosted by the late night. His reflection only repeating a regret, the one that caused his sole figure to sit so isolated in a busy building.
The regret of not saying simple words. The regret of unfinished stories, an unspoken barrier that he'd now never be able to cross.
She'd said it many times to him, enunciated it on his lips, his cheeks, in his ears. Yet he had never said it back.
It was regret that haunted him. Smeared her words all over his skin, turning it white as a sheet. His own skin like shadow against the white sear of remorse.
Why was it so hard to have simply said those words?
If he couldn't see her anymore but inside the confines of his memory, the meek little thing, how could he have never said anything?
Three simple words, that he never uttered.
For fear of what?
For fear of seeming too feminine? Too emotional?
Oh, how he'll never forget those disappointed looks, watery eyes focused on the ground, tears already beginning to form on the edges of her long lashes.
It seemed like time wasn't on his side.
He'd never get to say those words to her, he'd never be able to see her smile unless through the screen of LED lights in his hand, her memory playing over and over in his mind like a broken tape.
She was gone.
When he stood up, his body swayed a bit, as if refusing the physical act of even being. Yet, his body seemed to take over, guiding him to the cross that stood in the ground, ten yards from his neighborhood.
Their neighborhood.
No more whispers.
No more touches.
He could only barely whisper the words he'd so wish to say, but what came out was only just a simple, empty,
'goodbye.'
