monday morning

we decided we would not speak. i told him that it would be better for him. i said i wished i could let him stay in the cabin over the weekend alone, but since it didn't belong to me i needed to be there. i said we would stay in different rooms and i would cook three meals a day and other than that we would be apart. and from the time we got into the car to the time we stepped out of it when we returned, we would not speak. we had hand signals for "do you want me to leave?" and "time to eat" and of course a nod for yes, and a head shake for no. i told him silence was necessary. for him to cope. for him to get through this. at that moment, the noise stopped.

by sunday the silence was normal. our footsteps sounded like strums on a bass guitar. our breathing sounded deep and heavy without any other noise. saturday night it had rained, and it sounded like bullets. when it stopped raining, around 4, the sky cleared and we walked outside to see the stars. out there, there were more stars than sky. we hadn't even planned to walk out together, we just ended up there at the same time. when you don't talk, its like your minds sync up. it only took us 2 days to do that.

monday morning we packed up. our packing was noisy and rough. we moved the couches back to the wall, closed plastic packages of chips and pretzels. the trunk clapped closed like thunder. he sat on the couch next to me and waited for me to point at the door, and give a motion for "let's go." but i didn't. he started crying. after the whole weekend, where i expected him to think and get past it, here the greif was seeping out of him from his bones. his whole body was bursting with the force of it.

i sat down next to him and still did not speak. i motioned for "do you want me to leave?" and he shook his head. i smiled. i pulled his head to my chest and let him sit there, wetting my shirt all the way through and shaking. once i felt the tears stop, i pulled his head up to mine and he started to say something, but i put my finger to his lips to hush him. i wiped under his eyes with my thumb, and kissed under each one. i kissed the top of his head. as i went to wipe a tear from his chin he kissed me. light on the lips. he put his hand on my face and kissed again. this time i kissed back, seriously and intentionally. it was strong and loud. it seemed i could feel his sadness falling out of him, reaching to the ground and pummeling through to center of the earth. it was the loudest thing that had happened all weekend.

once we got home we got back to talking. just as we promised, when we got out of the car we started with the words. we told our friends about how wonderful the stars had looked and how we made spaghetti and watched old movies. we looked at each other as best friends always had. we let the silence of the weekend remain over our monday morning love. that's what it would remain. it was never mentioned, but i could feel that his regret and loneliness was less.

for our years of friendship, every now and then, we caught each other's eye. we felt a kiss floating between us. we felt a good thing floating between us. but it was monday morning love, it was a silent monday morning love; it was how it was born, and it was how it would die.