On the wharf with her one evening. |
We dipped our wriggling toes in the salty, wharf-worn water, wishing we could stay forever, and watched the evening grow shorter. I felt my fingers longing for the touch of her hair and I opened my mouth to speak but she beat me to it. She laughed as she called me stupid. "There's no such thing as love, just a little bit of friendship that's overdone." She said, "There's no such thing as that silly myth, Cupid. Can't we stay this way forever? Just the times we share together and a lot of fun. "So, my friend, don't ask, don't speak, just wait and we'll see what becomes of us and how it will end. "Don't say you love me, don't try to take my hand. I only want to be free and I know you understand." I understood, all too well, because there's a fate that makes us wonder and wait and torments us like a happy hell, and then we see, all too well, how it came and how it fell. The two of us walked back along the carless road, like knots in a rope and dreams that never erode. It's funny they say what comes around goes around. Once, I too only wanted friendship, when someone else wanted love and because I couldn't give it she left me for another. Then I moved on and found someone else but she only wanted friendship and I wanted love, but I know I'll never leave for another. I didn't say a word and I never will. We both fell in love with the silence between us, and that silence is there still. The silence that says, "I know you so well we don't need to speak." The silence that understands what we leave behind and what we seek. The silence that binds us in a way that nothing else can because our voices aren't as strong as our hearts and our hearts are already so close that nothing could say what we would if we could. We parted ways at the crossroads, said, "See you tomorrow," and she went her way and I went mine. But even as we walked away I sensed it, as I always do: that silence between us like a knot in a rope that won't unwind, and an unspoken hope that we'll never leave each other behind. |