in the moment

*

she pulled on her robe and watched the grey, half-matted carpet pass as she drifted slowly down the stairs. slippers were waiting on the last step. she put them on to avoid the cold tile floor, and mechanically turned towards the kitchen. he wasn't up yet, but she knew he would be soon--put some water on the stove to boil.

he slipped in quietly a few minutes later, sitting in the chair closest to the door so he could see out the window.
'morning, he said after she didn't seem to notice. he reached for a piece of bread she'd set out.
sleep well? she turned from the stove.
as well as ever--and you, you seemed restless?
a bit.
everything alright? he asked
yea, fine.


it matters, doesn't it?
he rubbed his eyes, isn't it a little early for this?
never too soon, she said, and poured two cups. sugar?
'course.
she glanced over her shoulder, waiting for an answer to the question.
laugh--of disbelief, really. alright, he managed, doesn't what matter?
come now, luv. surely you don't think nothing matters?
of course not. i'm just not sure i what you mean
you. me. them. today. yesterday. my sitting here, with you there across the way, watching the crumbs fall from that bread to this table. she handed him a napkin. it has to make some difference, doesn't it?
oh, it does, i suppose. if i weren't here with this piece of bread, your table wouldn't have crumbs on it. he smiled, glancing out the window. the sun glazed across his eyes, letting the deep brown glow. and if i weren't here i'd be somewhere else. and that would matter, because it matters to you. that's as far as anything is carried, really. as far as the individual--unless you find another individual who thinks it matters, then it might grow to matter to a whole group of people.
but what now? she asked. what matters in this moment?
my listening to your voice, watching you sip from your cup just then. the sunrise coming in through the window, across the table...and the way you're glaring at me now--what are you thinking?
nothing, really. i was just thinking, and wondering. she stood up to take the dishes to the sink.
wondering she says. wondering what?
well...do i--?
yes?
she twisted her face and thought for a minute,
nevermind.

-

cornered, he thought to himself, that's what she did--she cornered me, and begged me to give her answers. i try to be a reasonable man, understand, but it's not always easy. especailly with her always asking those abrupt questions...the simple questions she should know the answer to, as well as anyone can.
the same questions i've asked myself a hundred times, and just couldn't...
i just couldn't.

-

you ok? she asked.
hm? yea--fine.
she nodded thoughtfully, then why are you running from me?
no answer. racing through his mind, sifting through all the words--just reaching for a way to explain.

they hadn't spoken much lately, save what they'd seen of each other in passing. he told her it was just because they'd been busy. but she knew there was something else..

what did i do? her voice fell, and she turned to face him.
i'm not running from you.
you are.
i'm here if you need me.
she scoffed doubtfully.
what? i am--all you have to do is ask. you know how to find me. then he said, i'm off for a bit.
of course you are.
now, what am i supposed to say to that?
nothing.
don't--
what? take your coat, there's a cold wind.
he smiled, walking to the closet to pull out his coat. i'll be back in a while, he closed the door.

-

he came in that afternoon, and she watched him take his shoes off at the door. there's something wrong, she said with a serious expression.
of course there is.
i just don't know--what i am to you, anymore. where've you been, anyway?
out, just around the block. he walked into the living room and sat next to her on the sofa. don't worry so much, i'm alright.
i'm sorry, i don't mean--
don't apologise. he put his arm around her, drawing her in.
she could feel his chest rise and fall. he noticed the warm smell of her hair. she could feel his warmth and imagined she could breathe him, the same way he listened to her breathing, now. they stayed there--suspended in comfortable isolation.

what if this is all i am. what if this is all i'm here for, this moment, she said quietly.
what if you are. maybe this is all either of us are here for, he said. what if i'm just a second bookend on this particular shelf.
a bookend? she asked.
sure--we're all bookends, aren't we? we're all connected by the stories between, existing to hold the pages defining who we are, what we've been. one bookend complemented by the other, making the melodramatic moments a little more managable.
and what happens when you tire of these books, and move to another shelf?
why do you think of these things?
i..don't know. why don't you answer the important questions?
i don't know.
quiet, he said gently. he brushed her cheek once with the back of his hand, and held her face. i just want to sit here, with you.

-

they walked briskly, trying to see the wind crossing the sidewalk, looking at anything for a distraction. always returning to the words unspoken. he saw her in his peripheral, lagging just so. he sighed and slowed his pace so she could keep up. she bit her lip and looked away.

just say it. she said, finally. he could have sworn there were tears in her every breath. not in her eyes, and not in her voice. she'd never let it show if she could help it. he felt the tears that she couldn't control, those that even she couldn't see--he could feel the tears in her entire being.

whatever it is, she said, i wish you'd just say it.

she's scared, he thought to himself. almost shaking...no. must be from the cold. must be.
alright, she started, i'll go first. not because i want to, but because i have to. i don't mean to press anything, but even if you decide to never speak--
hey, hold on.. he hadn't meant to interrupt, he just wanted her to breathe--she was scared.
yea?
it's arlight, go on. you have something to say, so say it. it'll be easier that way.
easier. you think so?

stalling again. she let a quiet, unsatisfied sigh escape, making little white clouds of vapor with the cold morning air.

i needed you, you know. needed you then, and i need you now. and i want...well, nevermind, because even more, i want you to be happy. or at least as happy as you can be. i don't know what's happened. i thought i did, until--
and here they stopped, just for a moment. they both realised he knew what she meant.
she looked down, brushed her windblown hair back from her eyes and raised her head to meet his stare.

he stepped over the curb and walked on. a couple of jogs and she'd caught up. they were walking side by side again.
i'm sorry. i know i've been keeping you at arms length. but i don't know what you want from me. you won't tell me anything.
he looked at her, you know there are some things that--
i know, she said. we need our space, and i'll give you that. i thought i always had. but there are some things that can't be left unspoken.

for once in his life, the roles were reversed. he was at a loss for words--
go on, he said.
i wanted to be close enough that if all you needed was a voice and a face, you'd have it. and close enough in case you wanted to let me in, and pull me closer--God knows how much i wanted, no. want it--then you could. at the same time..
she struggled, fighting herself. her entire body tensed--she wrapped her arms around her waist and looked away, just long enough to find her thoughts. she took a staggered breath and forced herself to start again..
and at the same time, i wanted to give you enough space so you could walk away without looking back, if that's what you needed. but all that created is distance, and it's killing me. space i can stand, we both need our space. but distance--
she stopped and said,
i can't breathe..

he just watched her, not saying anything. and not knowing what to say if he'd wanted to. they'd almost reached the apartment-
listen, she said, there are some things i'll never get used to--ask me sometime, if you want the list, in another conversation. one of those is your being unhappy. that look on your face--i feel so, helpless.
she was standing still in a fixed gaze to the floor as tho the answer to her prayers was about to come at her from the matted carpet. she turned the key, allowing the gentle knock of the bolt to hit the inside of the door. he followed her into the front room. she methodically set her satchel by the door.
i need you. but more than that, i want you to be happy. he looked into her eyes, trying to capture her in that moment. she shook her head, whispered, i'm sorry. i'm just so scared..
i know, he reached for her, pulled her close, and spoke, i know.
do you?
i think so.
she turned her face towards his. whatever happens, whatever you have to do--whether you let me in, or keep me at arms length, or...walk away, i will always be here for you.

-

the evening set in, they agreed to get some fresh air. he stood, lifting his coat from the back of the chair. she'd already pulled hers over her shoulders. they walked quietly to the front door. for the next hour or so, they stood on the front porch talking, and watching the sky change colours.
i've lost track of the time, he said.
so have i.
it must be getting late. he started to walk down the steps, and looked up--you alright?
i'm fine. she said coldly.
no, you're not..
if you already know whether i'm alright, then why do you ask?
why do you always do that--
do what, exactly?
don't be nonchalant, not with me. you know why i ask.
i suppose i do. but i'm fine, really.

she sighed, it's cold. and i'm tired.
you go inside and get warm. i'm headed out--don't wait up.
she stopped, and shot him a concerned look.
out?
i'm coming back, you know, he said with half of a smile.
i'll be here, she said. goodnight