It all starts so simply; a careless word, a casual comment, a trigger.
It builds and slowly gathers fuel;
festering and seeping into every corner of their lives.
Conversations become poisonous with an edge so delicate the balance itself cuts and bleeds.
Then it happens.
Words. One word followed by another with a trailing sentence spelling the end.
This is it; the cooking passion releases between. Hot molten abuse is flung left right and centre and emotions are stretched to their limits. Fire burns in their bellies; their bodies restless as their arms flail in a desperate attempt to mimic the outrage being released.
Wave after wave; pulsating anger radiates, cloaking the room in a strangling atmosphere. The volume reaches a climax; the past was brought up; a line crossed.
That was it.
Voices spent, speechless as shock settles and the feeling of air in their lungs bring calm closure and relief, soothing relief. The emotion has come and left. Now there is only dull tranquil pain.
The words.They hurt. The bruises from flying objects are numbed by the weight of the words that wash over it. Silence. That’s all there is between them. A gaping wall; a chasm filled with emptiness. And then it arrives.
Is it over? Is this the end? A relationship that has lived so many experiences that rooms were decorated in memories. How has it come to this? No, this is not the fear that drives deep into their souls. It is the fear of contact. Can they reach out? Do they want to reach out? Will they reach out? Should they prepare for the worst?
Above all else they fear the silence that never ends.
Edit: moved links; read more.