This was so opposite from the other nights we shared together. Typically we sat on my wide-paneled hardwood, sipping cheap white wine until our ankle bones hurt from our cross-legged stance. Occasionally we’d break out Yahtzee, but usually the dice fell no further than my fingertips . I tumbled them around in my moist palms and listened to the sound of ivory on ivory when the conversation became slow.
I remember the first night she told me, there in my room. There was really no reason for it but to hear the way the syllables came together. There was no reason for this kind of absolution. I couldn’t stand to see her look at me that way, pleading. She already knew I loved her. She already knew. Hearing her say it seemed profane somehow.
The water was so warm on this night. We wiggled our toes in the murky green liquid and spoke in flat tones that carried across the lake. I always hated the way the bottom floor felt and for that reason had avoided swimming here, but tonight was an exception. This was her place. She brought me here and I knew that this was going to be our secret. This was something sacred.
After she couldn’t stand it any longer I watched her slip into the water. I imagined the squishy floor between her bony toes as she treaded further away from me. She didn’t turn around and I didn’t call out to her. I noticed the way her white linen dress billowed around her. I watched as the water embraced her small frame. I noticed the way the ripples enlarged to infinity and then to nothingness. I watched until all I saw was a sheet of glass. I sat there for minutes, hours, forever. I listened to the stillness and thought of how I loved her.
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