Even Now

Dario Solera
2 min readMar 26, 2016

She was there for me. She has always been there for me, even when I wasn’t there for myself.

Even now.

I’ve never been good at talking. I’ve known that all along. I’m a good listener and bad talker. Bad talker, yeah, that’s something, isn’t it? At least I’m good at being bad at something.

So she talked when I was silent. And I listened, taking it all in. Dwelling in those stories, soothing myself in her voice as we sat on the couch, curled up in a soft embrace. I listened to her voice, to her heart, to her breaths. It was so intimate. Warm.

I have never been that close to someone before. I was alive. I was safe.

And she was there for me. I felt it. I listened, trying to be enough for her. Hoping to be enough for her. I’m not sure I was.

She talked and filled the void I created around me. Yeah, call me Black Hole.

I listened to those words. They kept me alive. Well, for a while.

Even now she’s here for me, but she’s not talking. This time she’s crying. I feel her tears tap-tap on my face, so gentle that they mask out the pain.

Even now she’s here for me, holding my hand. My blood-red, sticky hand.

I know she will always be there for me, even on the other side. I know that.

I’m a good listener, so I listen to her sobs until there’s nothing to listen to.

Originally published at dariosolera.it.



Dario Solera

Author of scifi novels Branch Off and White Dwarf One. Engineering Lead at Aruba.it. Cloud believer, F1 addict. Mostly harmless. https://dariosolera.it