He hurtles down the bitumen street; his weeping eyes glance back every few metres, as I race after him. Panting through soft sobs, his movements begin to slow.
Suddenly, he stops and stares at me. He is noticeably exhausted, emotionally more than physically.
'I won’t go back,' he says to me - his voice empty of all conviction. Our conversion carries over the cars that pass by, unaffected.
I knew he would go back; he’s threatened to leave before, but he has nowhere to go. I am sick of having to chase after him every week. I am sick of having to tell him everything will be alright. I wish he could find his life a little easier.
I allow sensitivity to betray my real emotions. 'Everything will be alright,' I reassure him, 'come home.'
His voice, still shaken and hollow, tries to speak but falters. I hug him; and the dishonesty of my embrace passes by unnoticed. He stares into my eyes, vulnerable; I understand him completely. Without saying anything, he tells me that none of it matters, he tells me that he will stay and he tells me that he loves me, more than anyone else.
I respond with the same unspoken sentiment, although mine is far from genuine. The understanding we have is in his mind; his worst tragedy, destined to affect myself alone.
Why would you run away, from the place I cherish so dearly?
Comments
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I really like this! The statements you made describing how actions don't always show true emotions, "I allow sensitivity to betray my real emotions" and "although mine is far from genuine" speak volumes! Great job! I hope to read more from you. Keep up the good work!
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Thanks very much.
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Good write and welcome to AP. Ienjoyed reading this is was very visual and good in content and emotion, well done!
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Thanks for the welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it!
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Well done have you visited storywrite? there's a link at the bottom of the page.
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