extraordinary things

pupils catch each other across a long, black table.
quickly we divert attention. shifting blame onto the floor where it belongs.
"i'm sorry" i say.
"hrmph". his reaction, while not unexpected reeks of self pity.
"no i'm not" i reply second handedly. "this whole thing was laid out for you before anything even happened. this isn't about the keys or the cords or the silence or the foot prints. this isn't about me or you. or her. or him or anyone else. this was something you were supposed to be ready for."
your silence explains so much more than i could have ever expected.
"maybe i'm not sorry because i should be sorry. but sorry because i can't be sorry. what else can i say besides nothing?"

i am teetering on the edge of hating you. i am slowly descending into a world where i am better without you in my life. it's easier to say nothing, it always is. and i guess when it's so far removed from area codes, provincial boundaries and even the way the moon looks in the sky, 0.02 degrees left of centre... it really is easier to say nothing.

i will keep my memories and the photos that haven't been erased from my life due to complete and total technological melt down. you can keep whatever it is you try to make yourself think makes you happy.

but i think we should be sorry because we aren't sorry. it's natural progression i guess.

i'll keep immersing myself in love and then loneliness. and more love and loneliness.
i have plenty of dvds to keep me company in this bed.

i hope you find what you're looking for. i just can't help you find it anymore.