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Ch1-The man who prefers tea over coffee
words are strong
words are heavy
sometimes we don't feel the weight on our tongues, until they leave and settle on the poignant stasis of an expression.
we hurt our loved ones into speechlessness.
sometimes..
because this time "lets get a divorce" did not waver the indifference in his expression.
This time like many other times she is standing at the edge of /his/ bed. The fever of her emotions eroding away her sanity. A surge of anger, sadness, and hopelessness melt into tears. She lets them be, as her gaze bores into his tired eyes. There was no room for embarassement, she had used it all up in the past 6 years. All that was left was growing emptiness.
Perhaps this was the price of diving head first into love.
perhaps all the lost opportunities were her fault
she watches him scratch the beginning of a stubble with the edge of his pen, as he moves past his screen to reach for the paper in her hand.
He had become accustomed to the redenning rims of her eyes. Grew comfortable with the glassy accusations of her eyes. This was just another episode to their doomed soap opera.
He couldn't bring himself to care any longer. He needed to hurry back to the lull of his coffee and the torture of those numbers.
Their hands brush once he finds the papers, yet there's nothing but the numbness of their lost feelings..
Absentmindedly, he signs and with little effort he drags his eyes to hers.
Oh how he missed the butterflies, the shy guard above layers of love.
Year after year, the layers crumbled into hollow emptiness.
Perhaps if he searches, he'll find a single piece to linger on. Perhaps he could mend it all and clear his name. perhaps he could wake up his own dormant emotions.
yet he simply stares.. a complicit to time, he gives in to his own pride.
Their 'perfect' relationship was built on the weak foundation; that is love.
Had he ever loved? He wasn't sure of himself, and he doesn't linger on it.
..we hurt the ones we love..
"Is this another one of your episodes? Will you shred it like the one from last week" He says out of habit, too tired to see the firmness in her expression.
This was her conclusion, and she was slipping past his fingertips just like the paper he hands her.
"Asshole"
he watches her back as she leaves his room. He proceeds back to his work, taking a sip of his coffee, ignorant to the sound of her packing a suitcase, ignorant to her anticipation of the morning light.
Afterall, he believed the hold he has on this marriage was stronger than even his own signature on divorce papers.
He believed they were meant to be. but he wouldn't wrestle with fate.
only time could prove him wrong.
(to be continued)
© shahrazad
words are heavy
sometimes we don't feel the weight on our tongues, until they leave and settle on the poignant stasis of an expression.
we hurt our loved ones into speechlessness.
sometimes..
because this time "lets get a divorce" did not waver the indifference in his expression.
This time like many other times she is standing at the edge of /his/ bed. The fever of her emotions eroding away her sanity. A surge of anger, sadness, and hopelessness melt into tears. She lets them be, as her gaze bores into his tired eyes. There was no room for embarassement, she had used it all up in the past 6 years. All that was left was growing emptiness.
Perhaps this was the price of diving head first into love.
perhaps all the lost opportunities were her fault
she watches him scratch the beginning of a stubble with the edge of his pen, as he moves past his screen to reach for the paper in her hand.
He had become accustomed to the redenning rims of her eyes. Grew comfortable with the glassy accusations of her eyes. This was just another episode to their doomed soap opera.
He couldn't bring himself to care any longer. He needed to hurry back to the lull of his coffee and the torture of those numbers.
Their hands brush once he finds the papers, yet there's nothing but the numbness of their lost feelings..
Absentmindedly, he signs and with little effort he drags his eyes to hers.
Oh how he missed the butterflies, the shy guard above layers of love.
Year after year, the layers crumbled into hollow emptiness.
Perhaps if he searches, he'll find a single piece to linger on. Perhaps he could mend it all and clear his name. perhaps he could wake up his own dormant emotions.
yet he simply stares.. a complicit to time, he gives in to his own pride.
Their 'perfect' relationship was built on the weak foundation; that is love.
Had he ever loved? He wasn't sure of himself, and he doesn't linger on it.
..we hurt the ones we love..
"Is this another one of your episodes? Will you shred it like the one from last week" He says out of habit, too tired to see the firmness in her expression.
This was her conclusion, and she was slipping past his fingertips just like the paper he hands her.
"Asshole"
he watches her back as she leaves his room. He proceeds back to his work, taking a sip of his coffee, ignorant to the sound of her packing a suitcase, ignorant to her anticipation of the morning light.
Afterall, he believed the hold he has on this marriage was stronger than even his own signature on divorce papers.
He believed they were meant to be. but he wouldn't wrestle with fate.
only time could prove him wrong.
(to be continued)
© shahrazad
