Strangely Apart, Strangely Close Together
'Lying apart now, each in a separate bed,
He with a book, keeping the light on late,
She like a girl dreaming of childhood,
All men elsewhere - it is as if they wait
Some new event: the book he holds unread,
Her eyes fixed on the shadows overhead.
Tossed up like flotsam from a former passion,
How cool they lie. They hardly ever touch,
Or if they do, it is like a confession
Of having little feeling - or too much.
Chastity faces them, a destination
For which their whole lives were a preparation.
Strangely apart, yet strangely close together,
Silence between them like a thread to hold
And not wind in. And time itself's a feather
Touching them gently. Do they know they're old,
These two who are my father and my mother
Whose fire from which I came, has now grown cold?'
- Elizabeth Jennings, One Flesh
Han felt guilty about leaving. He really did. Every time he turned to go he remembered how much she would miss him, and how he would miss her. But after the devastation of their son's turning to the dark side, he was leaving more and more frequently; the most heartbreaking thing to bear was that Leia let him go. They had asserted together that they both needed their space and time, but Han didn't think the whole of space or time of journeying the universe could fix their predicament now. Nonetheless, they tried. He left on pointless, excusable errands, she left on important senatorial 'business.' He felt like he was walking around with only half of himself intact; like a ghost. Han didn't know what his wife thought anymore, what she needed or wanted. They had comforted each other fervidly in the beginning, needing the physical attachment and emotional support, but now it was all they could do but to shed a tear in the other's presence.
Han turned back to her, a solemn expression in his eyes.
'I know you have to go.' She said assertively. Han appreciated how they both kept up the pretences that they were parting for a reason; at this moment in time, he didn't know why they were still together.
Although looking in her brown eyes then, he realised why they held on so tightly.
They had aged, that much was certain, but Han could still see the beauty and evergreen youth in her. He wondered if she saw the same in him.
'I'll be a few weeks. But I should be back before next month.'
Leia nodded politely. 'Be careful. And drive safely.'
Han sighed, wondering how things had become so monotonous and distanced between them like this.
'Alright.' He said quietly, looking her directly in the eyes. She met his gaze, but only briefly. It had been a problem lately that she was unable to look at him directly.
'Take care of yourself.' She added, her hands placing themselves on his arms. He was quite surprised at the sudden gesture.
'I will. I promise.' He whispered, his gaze settling on her face, inches from his chest. A pause settled between them, and Han knew it was the time that he departed.
'Okay, well, I guess I should go.' He said, feeling awkward to have interrupted the silence. Instantly, Leia let go of his arms and stepped away from him.
He leaned down to her, courteously kissing her cheek. With a weak smile, Han turned away and walked up the gangway to his ship, feeling as though he might as well be alone and single. Suddenly, her voice unexpectedly called out to him in a tone of desperation. He immediately spun round to face her, looking down with concern halfway up the gangway.
'Han,' she said again.
He took a step forward. 'Yes?'
'I think we should talk. Once you get back.'
He saw the very physical nature of 'sorry' in her eyes and knew what she was proposing. He hung his head with resign.
'But I wanted you to know,' she said, her expression filled with emotion that Han could hardly bear to see, 'that I don't blame you. I don't blame either of us.'
Han only nodded.
Leia stepped up the gangway, slowly advancing until she stopped at his feet, 'I still love you.'
The statement was relieving to hear, yet it only hurt more. And Han knew it hurt her to say it. But with a smile full of old memories, old love, and old passion, he let himself reply, 'I know.'
They leaned in at the same time. Somehow, it had all amounted to this bittersweet moment of love and farewell. The kiss was definitely loving and intense, but it lacked true warmth and surety. Once they had drawn away and searched each other's eyes, Han knew that was the last they would kiss in a long time.
'I should go now.' He said painfully.
'We'll talk once you return.' She confirmed. Han recognised that once he did, he would almost certainly be packing his bags again. For good.
The thought didn't sit well at all in his stomach, and he concentrated instead on the journey ahead.
'Goodbye.' He said, turning away again and walking up the path to the interior of the Millennium. He tried to ignore the glistening trail he spotted on Leia's cheek, and which she had tried to cover up. Watching her descend, he then closed the door and found his way to the cockpit where Chewie already sat, ready for the long trip ahead.
'I don't want to talk about it.' He said firmly, occupying himself with buttons and switches and levers that started the roaring engines. As the Millenium Falcon lifted to the skies, Han glimpsed the figure of a woman down below who used to be his lover.