Red Wine

You fight.

You fight and you say things and you end it, not because you necessarily want it to end, but because you don’t know how to fix it.

And in that end you don’t find relief, just more anger and hurt because you don’t know how to go from loving him to hating him.

He makes it easy for you though because he doesn’t know how to go from loving you to hating you either, so he just ignores you.

He ignores you as you walk in the door and is “surprised” when you’re suddenly by his side.

He ignores you when you’re out with mutual friends and he pretends that he didn’t see you arrive.

He ignores you when you try to say a small and quiet hello in an effort to end his icy silence.

He ignores you.

He ignores you, but he sees you.

He sees you when you laugh and smile with your friends and you know that a part of him misses your laughter.

He sees you as you reach out to him, but he doesn’t know how to take your hand.

He sees you, but he let’s you walk away.

Days, weeks, and months pass and you realize that the hurt has faded away.

You say hello with trepidation and he meets your greeting with the timidness of an injured bird; you both know how badly you can hurt one another.

For months you exchange nothing other than your simple hellos, as if your greetings are potentially building a foundation to something more.

You step carefully because you’re not sure if the cement has set.

One day you make a joke, and he laughs, and you laugh, and you see the sparkle in his eyes and you know that, in that moment, you have reached him.

He knows that you are there, standing where you once stood.

But the moment is a flash of light and then it is gone and you both retreat for fear of what that moment could mean.

Leaves fall from the trees and you exist in a world of in-between.

You no longer live in hate, but you know you don’t live in love.

There is a mutual respect for each other, but the boundaries are still set, until one day his hand is on your back and he stands beside you and asks you how you’ve been.

You know what he means.

He’s asking if there’s anything left, if you still care, if you can feel him reaching out to you.

You don’t know how to answer, so you smile and look him in the eyes as you say that you’re well and silently hope that he knows that the door hasn’t closed.

He asks you out for a drink and you say yes.

You enjoy the drink and the moments that follow because you know it is only a matter of time until you fight.

You fight, you say things, and you end it.