Silence sounds emotional.
Two people in a waiting room.
Both agreed to be there. Neither speaks.
One wants the other to say something.
Eyes closed, the faintest sigh.
The Other struggles to find the right words,
picks at their cuticles, scratches one arm then the other on repeat.
If they say the wrong words in the wrong order. Disaster.
Wait. Watch. Think and rethink until it’s right.
So much time passes without a word said.
One begins to imagine they were wrong to
believe the Other wanted to say something.
Something that would change everything.
The Other knows what they want to say, finally.
Now they don’t know what to say first.
How can they check how they sound
without speaking out loud?
One gets up, heart throbbing.
Ambles toward the door.
This will make the Other speak.
If they mean to say what I think they want to say,
they won’t want me to leave.
Not a sound. Only foot steps that stop at the door.
Disillusioned, One’s shoulders droop.
They’d rather leave than wait with all the hope inside.
It’s clear whatever they thought was completely wrong.
One closes the door behind them. Deep breath in.
Fights back tears. Begins to run until they disappear.
When One was at the door,
The Other said, ‘Don’t go.’
So faint was the voice that spoke those words,
they were as still as silence.