
Your silence speaks more than words now. You are standing there, looking at the ground, giving up on me. You tell me this is for the both of us, when we already know this is for you. This was always for you.
You ask me what I am thinking. Why not read what my eyes are telling you? My eyes are speaking a story of remembrance. My eyes are speaking of when you would cross your ankle underneath mine at the dinner table to be sure that no one would never see. My eyes speak of what I know is to never be spoken.
I came here to tell you that I had changed. You remind me of my own words, "People don't change." I am not the one who has not changed...as that is and always will be you. You have that same arrogance I learned to despise, and the same intellect I learned to admire. You are so wise, yet so naive. You have this bizarre way of believing you know all my behaviors and emotions; however we have barely conversed in six entire months.
You walk on my words with your cold stare. That stare could keep me awake for days. Your crystalline grey eyes fade into ash as they come into contact with mine. You break the silence in reminding me how I bring out the worse in you. I continue the pointless argument with reminding you of how you do not even know who I am. You grow silent realizing you never knew in the first place.
You stare at me as I begin to walk away. As expected, I feel your hand on my wrist. You tell me to not go, and I ask what the point in staying would be. Your silence once again answers my question. You pull my wrists to eye level as something has clearly caught your attention. You point out the fact that your bracelet is still on my wrist. I remind you of when I promised to never take it off. You remind me of when I also promised to always be faithful. I grow silent.
You watch me fade into my thoughts; fade into our vivid memories. I am no longer here, and nor are you. We are sitting in the basement, who knows when, and I am telling you the truth for the very first time. I tell you about the previous week, of another’s lips pressed upon mine. As expected, I feel your hand on my wrist. You mutter words of betrayal as tears run down my face. You tell me to be quiet and your strong fist leaves a purple imprint upon my chin. I whimper apologies as you silently sit next to me. You make me promise to always be faithful. I make the promise.
You saying my name brings me back into reality. I stroke my hand against my chin and you condescendingly tell me that I had better not be thinking of that. I remind you of how unforgettable the moment was. You spit profanities of me beneath your breath, again. You ask me to walk with you, and as usual I agree to your wish.
I follow you through the grass and the tension in our silence continues to grow. Blades of grass stroke my bare ankles as you stop in your tracks and stand directly in front of me. I try to continue walking as you only grab my shoulder and hold me still. You run your fingers through my hair causing an impulsive shiver to stroke through my body. I resist your contact and try to continue walking. You stand in front of me again.
You ask me what the hurry is and a make up a false excuse when the both of us know the truth. You smile slightly as I force myself not to become entranced in your charming grin. A giggle escapes your lips as you remind me of how terrified I am of butterflies. I ask you what made you think of this and then you point to the butterfly on my shoulder. I scream and run in circles, flicking my shoulder obsessively long after it has already flown away. You cannot control your laughter and I tell you to shut up but you just stand their smiling at me.
You ask me why we can’t simply have things like this always, and I remind you that things aren’t always this easy. I remind you that things were never this easy. You wrap your arms around my frail shoulders and I reluctantly lay mine on your back. Your warmth creates an undeniable emotion as you lift my chin. You bring your face closer to mine as my heartbeat becomes increasingly rapid. You begin to press your lips to my own as I turn my face. I whisper your name and how sorry I am, and you admit that you should have known better. You should have known better.
You begin to walk away and I stand their examining every one of your motions, hoping to see something hidden before. A piece of envelope is hanging out of your back pocket with my name on it. I turn away. You hesitate for a moment and completely stop moving. You begin to turn to look at me, but don’t turn completely. You look away. You continue to walk. You reach your hand into your back pocket, pulling the envelope into your palms. I hear a tearing sound and see two halves of the envelope fall on to the ground. I look back up to see you, but you are gone.
I walk to where the envelope had fallen and pull the two halves of the paper inside together. I sit on the concrete and piece it all together. “You never said you were sorry,” is written in your scribbled ink. I grab a pen out of my purse and write underneath it, “I never would have meant it,” and leave the paper in the concrete. I walk away.

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