she looked at him and laughed, that same laugh 'you know you can't just see me again, say hello, tell me you miss me and expect the shit to go away' he looked at her 'why not' earnestly, with a weak voice, his squinted eyes resting secondary behind that crooked smile 'are we just going to keep pretending that it all has to be forever?' his eyes poured into her. ’sometimes it isn't about a second chance as much as not wanting to do the first one over again' it was all heavier for her, although she never let on, she would take him back- in an instant- that was why she had the cavalry out. 'nothing is like the first time anyway, after that everything is another chance. you've always been afraid of something that could hurt, anything out of your control' getting up he walked toward the water, using the moonlight to scan the stones. 'you've always been afraid of loving anything that might let go' she muttered. 'I still love you' tossing the stone and watching it kiss gently across the illuminated lake. 'you love how that sounds' she was strong enough to absorb the blow 'you've never loved me nearly as much as you love the idea of me' strong. 'what's the difference' he wasn't playing as much as wondering. 'that you need to ask' they stood there, together and separate, both watching as the water composed itself, wondering about very different things, thinking at very different paces. she loved him before he knew what love meant and he grew up precisely when she stopped waiting for him. 'you'll miss me sometime' smugly, tossing again. 'I've always missed you, and that's the problem, looking back I can't remember what there is to miss' before she finished speaking he had stepped towards her, placed his hands around her ears, gently kissed her forehead, paused, and let his hands fall across her cheeks before turning back to the rocks. she stood, frozen, frustrated, silent. 'you missed.. that, for the first time in your life, someone didn't need you, they just wanted you, and that made you need them' he tossed the stone, too hard, watched as it skipped too far, and failed somewhere in the moonlight. before she could speak he had turned back toward the party, leaving her again, as he always had. she just smiled, not because he was right, or because it mattered, but because the moon looked beautiful and because whatever this was, nothing would ever make her feel as light as his touch, nothing would compare to their circular dance. and nothing would make her love him as much as he loved her now.
B.Alexander