He spilled words. Words that described a love lost. A love that he found and put aside for so long. Then how he suddenly returned to it to find that it had already drained away. His voice eloquently described the pain, the indecision, and the mistakes. The words did not quiver, but I saw his eyes glaze as he described the passion that he wanted. “I want to be one,” he said. He wanted to be consumed and overwhelmed by love. “I did everything for her,” his words seem to say. “And she didn’t do enough for me.”<\/p>\n
As a platonic friend, I sat across from him. “Are you disappointed?” I asked.<\/p>\n
He hesitated. A look of surprise crossed his face. Then he agreed.<\/p>\n
Then the words kept tumbling out across the solid wood table, wandering over the delicately placed raw fish, and towered over the steaming cups of tea.<\/p>\n
“You will be okay,” I said. “Really. It will be okay.”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
He spilled words. Words that described a love lost. A love that he found and put aside for so long. Then how he suddenly returned to it to find that it had already drained away. His voice eloquently described the … Continue reading