The last train home

Soft goodbyes and hard smiles are all that I remember about you. You made it look like talking was hurtful. Like speaking a word would make your mouth bleed. And I loved how surprised you looked after a long conversation with me. I used to smile then. And you would smile back, rustling your hair slightly.

You finally gave in. You weren't afraid of seeing me, talking with me, touching me. You said you were the happiest. And I flinched a little. To be responsible for someone's happiness is like holding a beating heart. Even though you look at it with fascination at a point, you have to let it die in your hands. And I was good at letting things die.

You never said goodbye. And I said it all the time. You responded with a smile, or a nod, or a weak wave of hands. I wish you did too. You said you could never watch me go. That it breaks your heart a little. I'd tease you for sounding all cheesy. And you would laugh. But you weren't lying. Were you? Everytime we were apart, I could feel the heart in my hands struggling to beat. And I felt no instinct to save it.

You said 'I love you' for the first time. I didn't say it back. Instead I said 'Goodbye, see you tomorrow.' The next day,I watched you fall asleep and how you held my hands as you did so. I was crying. You woke up and kissed me. And I kissed you back. I left that night. I left the heart on the table to die. I left you with blood on my hands.

You came with me as I boarded the last train home. We barely talked. Somehow we hoped the  silence would make up for all the things we said, or shouldn't have said. You kept staring at your hands, as if you didn't know what to do with them anymore. I desperately wanted to hold them in mine. But the blood was still wet, and the guilt had gathered dust.

You watched me as I got on the train, never speaking a word. And for some strange reason, I wish you did. But I knew I was in no position to wish for things, after all I have done and being through. If I stayed, you would have hugged me and told me not to punish myself for the things that happened. But there I was, on the last train home. As the train started moving, we both said things we hadn't before.
You said 'goodbye'. And I said 'I love you.'







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