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The Longest Goodbye

"Are you staying?" I already knew the answer, the small, chilled word in my chest.

"No. I can't."

"You mean you won't."

A silent moment there, neither daring to touch the jagged edge.

He stared down at his hands, beautiful, smooth, "I just can't."

A blinding white-flash of rage rose up inside me. "GO THEN!" I grabbed my bag and rushed out of the cafe. He caught up and we walked in silence for some time.

"This is killing me." I said.

"Do you want me in your bed, knowing my thoughts are somewhere else?"

WHY? I couldn't understand. He had filled my heart and mind, rocked me to the bone, I found it hard to believe I'd been in it alone.

Sometimes I recall a summer night, alone on Scarborough Beach. Beautiful, without a care… we decided to sleep there, under a blanket of stars and January moon. The highway, a distant hum beyond the dunes. Warm breeze on skin. Squeezed, laid bare in hot ascension, with no apprehension, lost in our ocean-scented crush. I licked the salt from his mouth, felt the sand in his touch to the South, a sheer veil of lights under inked-dipped sky and we shone, shone, shone so brightly. Young neon hearts on a Perth summer's night.

Breathe. I lay awake. Blue-grey branches sway. Washing line. All this time, his, mine. Deep breaths calm my soul and still my driven mind.

I know if he returned we'd lose each other again. He's the rain against my window, the burn I tried not to feel for the longest time until only the faintest scars remain.

Story by:

Lee Wilde

lee@leewilde.com

www.liarsmoon.com

14 October 2013