Going Anywhere

Wednesday, 4 October 2006.

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“Don’t go.”

Her head was on his lap and he was playing with her hair. “What do you mean? I'm not going anywhere.”

“Everyone goes somewhere, eventually.” She was staring into the air, at the passing clouds.

“I suppose, but why do you think I'd leave? I'm happy here.”

“But will you always be happy here?”

He couldn’t predict the future. Nobody could. “I don’t know. Will you?”

“I dunno.”

The tone in her voice was halfway between sadness and apathy. Awkward silence ensued. He had expected it, could even feel it coming, but felt helpless to prevent it. He kept stroking her hair: he didn’t know what else to do. He had lost the moment. “Perhaps we could go to that somewhere together.”

“Perhaps.”

She was still starting at the clouds, as if they had a secret written on them. Or perhaps she was just avoiding his eyes. Whatever the case, he really had lost the moment.