this is how you lose each other
You know something is wrong. Something doesn’t feel right, and you just assume the two of you are in a “rut”.
So he speaks up, but you don’t seem to understand. You live in a different world. The blossoming world where violent meteors leaving nothing behind but a wasteland have never struck.
You text. You call. But your presence and devotion merely reinforce his feeling of loneliness. The closer you are, the more it reminds him your worlds are so far apart. He works to bring you a big future. You bring small chocolates.
He begins wondering if his past can ever be understood. He wonders why his effort is so invisible. You don’t see the paradox: “I’m so invisible. You only care about yourself”, you say. He feels misunderstood. He’s so lonely, he might as well be alone.
“I’m just tired. Really”, realizing he sounds like a broken record. But he doesn’t have the energy to say more. He hasn’t slept in a month. He needs to finish this job. Just this last job, so they can finally go for the vacation they’ve been looking forward to for the last two and a half years.
You don’t sleep that night. He’s telling you about the deal. You talk about wedding decorations. He is scared and sad. You’ve never noticed. You like the new lifestyle. But you don’t like the sacrifices.
You arrive to the hotel in Hong Kong with a beach bag. He’s still busy with the deal. Those bilingual Cantonese signs make you realize for the first time how two worlds so close can be so foreign. He opens up to you for the first time in a long time. Suddenly, he says “I’m lonely. I think we should stop seeing each other”. His heart bleeds. You don’t feel yours anymore. You walk out the hotel room.
