12-02-2007, 06:33 AM
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It was true; after a while, the promises lost meaning. They were just words, among other words, and held no significance on their own. Instead, it was better to just be there. It didn't need to be pointed out or said; it didn't need to be talked about or anything at all. The most important things were unspoken because there weren't enough words, because the most important things transcended beyond anything quite so tangible, and because in the end, it wasn't the words you remembered anyway (oh, but you still remember them all, don't you?), but what had happened and whether or not they had been there. And absences spoke just just as loudly.
And he had stopped being confused a long time ago. Things were as clear as he could ever hope for them to be, but the truth was not really a truth at all -- just an acceptance that nothing would ever change, that nothing would ever matter, and that the only things worth anything were the things he gave meaning to and most, if not all of those things were gone, claiming pieces of his shattered heart and soul and sending them off to far corners of the earth. Well, maybe one of them was back now, but even standing so close to him now, he didn't feel as if it was there. He had been numb too long.
So he didn't know if he had missed her because he had just taken everything in stride. What was really the point in missing anything? Missing people didn't make the memories any clearer and missing them didn't make it any more or less likely that they would come back. Missing people took too much effort, even for his dreams.
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It was true; after a while, the promises lost meaning. They were just words, among other words, and held no significance on their own. Instead, it was better to just be there. It didn't need to be pointed out or said; it didn't need to be talked about or anything at all. The most important things were unspoken because there weren't enough words, because the most important things transcended beyond anything quite so tangible, and because in the end, it wasn't the words you remembered anyway (oh, but you still remember them all, don't you?), but what had happened and whether or not they had been there. And absences spoke just just as loudly.
And he had stopped being confused a long time ago. Things were as clear as he could ever hope for them to be, but the truth was not really a truth at all -- just an acceptance that nothing would ever change, that nothing would ever matter, and that the only things worth anything were the things he gave meaning to and most, if not all of those things were gone, claiming pieces of his shattered heart and soul and sending them off to far corners of the earth. Well, maybe one of them was back now, but even standing so close to him now, he didn't feel as if it was there. He had been numb too long.
So he didn't know if he had missed her because he had just taken everything in stride. What was really the point in missing anything? Missing people didn't make the memories any clearer and missing them didn't make it any more or less likely that they would come back. Missing people took too much effort, even for his dreams.
Still haven't found what you're looking for, have you?he wondered. It was not accusing, but it was anything but cheerful. Part of him wanted to smile back at her, but the muscles in his face had grown too accostumed to the way they were. It had been so long. He didn't have the words because he really just didn't know how he felt anymore.