"The stars feel closer." "Sometimes they do that, it depends on how tired your eyes are..."
She stares up into the blackness of the ceiling. The glow-in-the-dark plastic stars blurring through her silent, body shaking tears.
"Are you crying"?
"No"
"It feels like you're crying"
She doesn't respond. She feels so far away from this place. Covered to the neck in her pajamas, like a Victorian housewife. One can always tell if she's upset by how much clothing she wears when she crawls into bed.
She stays as far away as possible, his arms wrapped around her, holding her close.
His foot touches hers, and she moves to keep her extremities from doing what her mind doesn't want her to do.
Trust can be such a fickle thing when someone still hasn't said sorry yet.
After awhile, he gives up and rolls away too. "Goodnight, I guess"
Numb. Hurt. Scared. (Goodnight I guess, Goodnight I guess...over and over and over... NO! Things cannot get like this!)
...Wanting nothing more than to turn him around, and take him into her arms and kiss and cry and make love and know that everything really is okay. What happened tonight? What made things get like this? Why do I still feel like this, wasn't this resolved? Sorry is just a word, he's said it in action... get over yourself, you're being stupid.
And she tells him that she wishes that he would just say sorry. And he tells her sorry.
Are things really okay? Are they? Are they? Are they?
They embrace, and she clings onto the hope that all is well, that she has not lost the one that has finally stolen her heart. He isn't going to toss it back, unwanted...
at least not tonight.
"Are you crying"?
"No"
"It feels like you're crying"
She doesn't respond. She feels so far away from this place. Covered to the neck in her pajamas, like a Victorian housewife. One can always tell if she's upset by how much clothing she wears when she crawls into bed.
She stays as far away as possible, his arms wrapped around her, holding her close.
His foot touches hers, and she moves to keep her extremities from doing what her mind doesn't want her to do.
Trust can be such a fickle thing when someone still hasn't said sorry yet.
After awhile, he gives up and rolls away too. "Goodnight, I guess"
Numb. Hurt. Scared. (Goodnight I guess, Goodnight I guess...over and over and over... NO! Things cannot get like this!)
...Wanting nothing more than to turn him around, and take him into her arms and kiss and cry and make love and know that everything really is okay. What happened tonight? What made things get like this? Why do I still feel like this, wasn't this resolved? Sorry is just a word, he's said it in action... get over yourself, you're being stupid.
And she tells him that she wishes that he would just say sorry. And he tells her sorry.
Are things really okay? Are they? Are they? Are they?
They embrace, and she clings onto the hope that all is well, that she has not lost the one that has finally stolen her heart. He isn't going to toss it back, unwanted...
at least not tonight.