Paper Words

05/17/2024

Prompt: Write a story that uses mental dialogue to paint a different picture than the verbal dialogue.

—

It’s 6:30 AM and I’m already hard at work at my computer. I stare through the monitor as I absentmindedly eat my breakfast. He appears down the hallway a moment later, freshly out of the shower and on his way to the kitchen to pour his cereal and make his lunch for work. 

Good morning. 

He kisses my head and silently goes about his business. I didn’t even look up as he passed by. I just continue to click away as he quietly shuffles around and sits at his desk to eat. I don’t remember when we stopped rolling out the table and having breakfast together. 

I stand up to take the remnants of my food to the trash. As I’m dropping my apple core into the bin, I glance up and stare at the back of his head as he sits there, chewing and unaware of my interest. I notice he’s wearing my favorite shirt, the one that brings out his eyes.

You look handsome today.

Just as I’m thinking this, he slowly stands, walks over, drops his bowl in the sink and grabs his lunchbox off the counter. Without meeting his gaze I follow him to the front door and watch him throw his backpack over his shoulder and pick up his keys and wallet off the shelf. I stand there quietly, arms folded as I wait. I appear more agitated than I feel. He finally turns to face me. We both reach out for a hug. 

“Be safe,” I mumble into his shoulder. 

“I will,” he replies. “Love you. Have a great day.”

“Love you too. Thank you,” I say. 

You have a great day, too.

I hold the door as he steps out and glances over his shoulder. With a half smile, he waves, and I half smile and return the gesture. I wait a few seconds before I gently close the door behind me, hoping somehow this extra care I took not to slam the door and lock the door immediately will absolve me of my seeming agitation that he must have felt and a fact I’m just now realizing. 

Hurry home, and get back to me safely. Miss you already.

As I go about my morning, I wait anxiously to hear from him. He sends his usual text that he made it to work and I send my usual heartfelt reply. Then I go about my day, thinking about how much I’m already looking forward to him coming back home. I don’t know why I couldn’t have told him these things that morning before he left. 

Did I miss my chance? Was that the last time I’m ever going to see him?

As I ponder on these unwelcome thoughts, I promise myself to be in better outward spirits when he gets back. 

When he’s on his way home at last, I spend the whole time worrying over him on his hour-long commute. I try to block out all the foreboding thoughts that cross my mind. And I wait.

He should be back by now, I think to myself as I look at the time. Just as I think this, I hear the familiar jingle and click of the keys as he unlocks and walks through the door. A wave of relief washes over me. 

You’re back. My heart grows lighter in my chest. 

He finds me where he left me, sitting at my computer and staring through the screen intently. He walks by and I give him a quick peck on the lips before he starts his evening ritual of getting changed, putting work things away and getting ready for dinner. 

“Hey,” I mumble, eyes still locked on my monitor. 

“Hey…” he begins as he tells me about his day and carries on in the background. After a series of distracted “uh-huh’s” and “mhmms,” I feel bad. 

You need to stop what you’re doing and pay attention, I scold myself as I turn my computer off and we finish making dinner. 

Sorry I wasn’t listening to you. I don’t ask him to repeat himself. 

We settle into our respective ends of our three-seater couch, turn on whatever show we’re watching, and fall into silence as we eat, eyes glued to the TV. 

How was your day?

Mine was good. I missed you though.

Anything interesting happen at work? How was the drive today? 

I’m glad you’re back.

He gets up to put our plates in the sink and goes to his desk to do his evening tasks. I stay where I am and read a book or continue to watch TV, not saying a word, most of the time not for a long while. After a couple hours we turn in for the night and lay there awake for a long time. And for the first time all day we talk, and we laugh as we hold each other in the dim yellow light. We talk about our day, and that mundane feeling of the everyday so and so melts away as we dream about our dreams and eventually fall asleep.

Sorry I didn’t seem very talkative this morning. I thought about you all day. I wish you didn’t have to go tomorrow. I’m sorry you hate your job. I wish I could take the pain away. I wish you didn’t have to hurt for my sake. You’re my best friend and I love you. 

And I miss you.

Everything is fine, but something is broken. And we don’t know what and we don’t ask why. 

I lay awake in the darkness as I yearn for simpler times, for our sweet and innocent beginnings. I think about my words, so paper thin, as the fleeting moments pass, and how they take so quickly to flame as we burn through our days, all the moments we take for granted and can’t get back, and all the things we never say.

THE END