Silence.
The all too familiar, uncomfortable silence.
Her eyes are trying to find his. Trying because he’s staring at the floor. And the ceiling. And out the window. Lord knows his eyes are locked on anything but her.
Ten minutes earlier.
They were making love. At least that’s what it felt like. Mostly to Jennie. She opened her eyes and found him staring deep into hers. She felt open. Wide open. Well read, and perfectly understood. This felt right. This was right. It had to be.
Mike didn’t like the way this felt. I mean he certainly did, but he didn’t. Her eyes were getting in the way of everything. Her big, lovely eyes. He gently slid out of her, walked into the bathroom, locked himself in and was now staring into the mirror, though not at his reflection.
“I love you..”
Whose voice was that, he wondered. Who else’s? Did he hear right? No, can’t be. Calm down Mike.
“..I know you heard me. Please come out of there”.
Why does that phrase bring with it such terror, such anxiety. Such need for immediate reciprocation.
Getting-there first doesn’t mean the party staring blankly at you has to get-there right then, as well.
What is the rush. Give it time. Let the other have their process, just as you had yours.
Allow their tick to tock, too.
Brucey 