the beginning of the end
The frost was already forming as we left our warm home, heading for an equally warm evening in our local pub. I love autumn, I loved him, the fleece hat I’d given him last christmas pulled over his ears and his hands deep in the pockets of an oversized down jacket that hid his slight frame. I smiled and smoothly slipped my gloved hand through the crook of his elbow
Don’t
Don’t what?
Touch me
I don’t understand
I don’t like being touched
There was a long silence as we walked along the icy pathway and the implications of his words painfully began to blossom
Is this a new thing or have you always felt like this?
I’ve always felt like this
With these few words he deliberately, irrevocably destroyed an illusion he’d previously carefully constructed. Now he’d knowingly set us on different pathways. He was colder than the evening, colder than the ice. In my pain I lashed out with a warm, tearful broken whisper
you did a good job of faking it for 4 years
November 4th, 2010
I love the writing in this post. So many implications and so much pain following one gesture and one one word. Thank you for sharing this.
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November 7th, 2010
The pain behind this is very moving. It’s moments like these that make for very sad memories.
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