We had just killed two hours together.
After exhausting each other with unspoken words, a decision was made to take care of things on this day. Technology communicated. We had left unfinished business in the last town we had tried to set root. Promises, which were once made in earnest and promptly broken were waiting for us in a dingy storage room. So, we went, reluctantly, to reclaim the past and all that was rightfully ours. Remove the last remnants of our once treasured alliance. Come together one last time to come apart for good. A successful trip to end it all, clean. Two hours to sort through what was once ours into piles of yours and mine. Boxing up our failures and taping them shut forever. Or at least until we got home. Two lousy hours filled with nothings and nostalgia and silence. Deafening silence. We had spent all the words in our minds. We had nothing left to deal. How did we get here? A year ago our words had no trouble finding each other. Even the nonsense made sense. There was conviction in every kiss. There was purpose in our union. We could’ve killed two hours in two minutes back then. But now, we are just void, empty vessels waiting to be filled. Hoping to be ignored for the most part. Say something, damnit! You first. I won’t give in.
He folded the address into a square and tucked it neatly into his jacket pocket. You could cut the awkwardness with a knife between us, as we waited for the last train for the city. He lit up a cigarette and looked up at me. Words danced in his eyes imploring me to prompt. One word. I beg you. You owe it to me. To yourself. He started as if to say something and in spite of myself I felt my heart quicken. Take one step towards me. You. first. We both stared in silence. He drew a sharp breath shaking his head gently and… the train whistled its way into the station. He took a step back, away from me and lost his contact with my eyes.
We had just killed our last and final two hours together.