Day Eleven

It was like waiting to suffocate.

The clear knowledge that there wasn't enough oxygen in the air around you and the hazy recognition that you hadn't passed out yet, and in a room without doors or windows, your options for salvation were non-existent. Waiting for something irrevocable.

It was somewhat better than this, because on the edge of reality, just far enough into the hypothetical that I worried about convincing myself, was not suffocation, but the realization of dreams and good things and simple, satisfying moments. There was a chance that at the end of all this stillness wasn't a glacier-cold and ruthless ending, but an affirmation.

I had grown bitter and resentful in the void of so many things, and what was worse was that I knew it. The self awareness became another issue on a plate already too full. Too full with the sort of dishes that were stomach turning hot or cold, and that gave the impression that you would never get to the bottom of them. I had a desperate desire to slide them all off the, to shrug it all away and be done with the thoughts that clung on.

I knew that the resentment wasn't deserved, I was fully aware of the hypocrisy those feelings bore with them but the knowledge didn't save me from the feelings or, the guilt. I knew that all those things I felt were probably in her, for the same reason, because, in this we had done the same thing.

We refused to act. We refused to make ourselves vulnerable to the rejection of the other. We refused to close the door behind us and cut off our own escape. And so it grew quieter and quieter, a growing silence until the ticking of the tock sounded like the clap of thunder. Her breath seemed to pulse in the silence, threatening to deafen me.

Behind closed lips, the instinct for self-preservation and scars of old wars restrained passion and comfort. They kicked and screamed behind her eyes, chained, and I wondered if she could see it in mine too. In the most insignificant moments, it bleeds out without intent, meaningless things implying comfort and intimacy.

We don't speak for fear that our mouths might betray us.