the living room fixed itself into an unbearable chill last night, an ironic contrast to the hot damp air that choked brooklyn's night outside. the television was muted and the lights were on and we stared at each other silently.
neither of us had dared speak first, lest the conversation seem forced and empty, or to serious and heavy for us to discuss yet. the prospect of talking just to fill the air with words seemed like a dreadful venture. what words would we choose? what topics did not involve an avenue which lead into our wounds, still fresh and open, wet and unhealed? what conversation could be had that did not reveal to us he fracture? every word in the english language was loaded, ready to blow. every syllable a means of detonation. with our looks hung strangled in the air and under the explosive weight of each others hurt, communication suffocated.
the air conditioners hum delicately covered our unease. its steady rattling filled up the room generously. i didnt want to un-mute the tv, for some reason feeling that would be an indication that i was resigning to the distance between, accepting that it was not just a fracture but a break. a sign that i was resolved to let the space between us grow. so i kept the tv on mute. and when the a/c reached its predetermined climate and turned off to save energy the sound all but disappeared and we stewed in the silence.
as each second passed though, we could feel the noose loosening. we could feel time forgiving us and the cuts begin to scab. its just a matter of time before we realize how ugly this scar is. i guess soon enough we'll know where we are.