Hard to Express

They sat across from each other, neither holding the others gaze. Their drinks, one copa de tinto, one canya, sat there, untouched.
“So” she said
“So”
It was infuriating to think that they, who shared everything, hadn't the words to express what they wanted to say. Frustrating to know that the one thing he wanted to do above all, to make her understand, was beyond him.  
The man picked up his canya and sipped it, slowly, watching as a dog came perilously close to being run over. The woman frowned and picked at her hair, ignoring the scene behind her.
“Aren't you going to say anything?” she said.
“Well...”
“You know, it drives me insane. It is always me, starting these conversations. I sometimes wonder if you even care...”
Let me begin, he thought. I've got lots to tell you. I want to say how tired I am these days, how I'm not sure where we go from here, how I love you more than ever, how I still think the world of you. I need to let you know why I'm still here, even when things haven't gone so well lately, why I'd still rather be here with you than anywhere else. How am I supposed to even know where to start, with all this to say?
“Do you even love me?” she asked
“Of course”
“Then why do I have to ask?”
How is it not possible to see? He asked. Can you not see in the way I put the bed covers back each morning, folding your pajamas up and laying them on the bed? Or how I do the shopping and never ask for money, despite knowing that it's silly and will put me out of pocket. Or how I like to watch over you when you sleep, though how could notice that?  
“I don't know” he replied
“Typical”
“I'm sorry”
He was sorry. Wretchedly, he listened as he heard the same things that were bothering her, rehashed for his benefit. It wasn't that he wasn't listening. It was that he had no idea what to say.
Surely, he thought, I should have figured out how to say what I want to say by now? Surely?
Evidently not.
“What can we do now?” she demanded
“Well, firstly, I love you...”
“What has that to do with anything? I'm asking you for ideas, not statements”
How could he start now? It was much too late.
“Things haven't been great recently...” he stated
“That's obvious”
“I'm not sure what the way forward is”
That was it. How do you explain to someone you love that you are both going in separate directions, when she knows it already? How do you say that you feel too close to be apart and that being apart isn't good enough, so therefore you need to stay apart? How to make that make sense?   
“So what do we do now?” she asked, looking at him, her dark eyes sorrowful.
They fell silent. He sipped his canya and together they watched as the waitress brought drinks to the next table, where a couple animatedly discussed wedding plans.
 

Reviews

[kyrie]

Ah! Striking! I love that no names are used--this makes the story's point so much more evident. All the things you want to say but can't--not because your mouth doesn't let you but because you don't know how! I do take this story with a grain of salt, as I am female, but it goes both ways, too. So many things to say, and no way to say them. Tragically yet beautifully written!