Playlist: I Have Questions Location: "Home"

I walk the path to our front door like its just another one in a long stream of beautiful days I've shared with her over the past five years, not knowing after today it wont be just another, it'll be "the day". I ascend up the stairs with my luggage in one hand and her present in the other. The excitement and anticipation begins to build. Having been away from her for the last week has made me miss her immeasurably and so when I reach for the doorknob it is with great pleasure and a pure sense of longing that I walk into the apartment, set my luggage and her present down and make my way toward our bedroom to hopefully catch her still sleeping and wake her with a soft kiss. That's how I envisioned this day going. And then she'd smile that adorable smile, sleep-laden and childlike as she reaches out her arms to pull me into bed and under soft, smooth covers with her.

That is what I envision as I stand outside the open door to the bedroom.

"You feel so good" reaches my heart before it echoes in my ears, I think. Because it doesn't really register; the sentence, the words, the meaning of what I'm watching. All that registers is the drop I feel inside myself when I feel my heart beating in my stomach, first intense, fast and rhythmic and then soft and staggered until finally nothing. She's on top. Like she's in charge, not like someone has talked her into this. She was the pursuer, she's in it crushes me to the core of my soul to think that she went looking for this, it didn't just happen.

I can make out the movement of her hands deftly reaching around the buttons of her shirt. And with each, she undoes so much more than just a button.

First button, trust.

Second button, Faith.

third button, memories.

Fourth button, love.

As she reaches her soft and slender fingers for the final button I don't know what's left to be undone.

I see the way she discards the shirt in a frenzied motion to the floor as she continues to kiss the girl beneath her, like the shirt no longer matters, all that matters is removing it so she can be closer to the girl beneath her who, not surprisingly has already removed her shirt. My heart feels as bare and exposed as the skin of her shoulders and back, still writhing in unison with the girl beneath her. My eyes focus on the shirt, now a crumpled mess on the floor so far removed from the panting inhabitants of the bed. How did it happen so quickly, yet it feels like a lifetime in the making? The shirt was with her and now its not. And in that moment, as it falls to the floor without a sound, so does my heart, shattering into a thousand helpless pieces. No sharp edges no tear-stained splashes, just a quiet disregard.

"Oh fuck" I hear from the girl beneath her. And for the first time they notice me, my presence makes them uncomfortable. All of a sudden they appear to be overcome with embarrassed awareness of their naked skin like in the story of Adam and Eve. They look down at their exposed bodies and begin to shuffle around to clothe themselves but, like Adam and Eve, the damage has already been done. This irreversible, heartbreaking, life-altering, damage.

She's standing in front of me now. I catch sight of her eyes for the first time. They aren't the eyes I fell in love with Five years ago on that night outside of The Patio Bar. I want to turn around and run away, or at the very least, turn around and walk out at a leisurely pace with some shred of dignity and self-preservation still stored away neatly in my pocket. But I cant move. I cant speak. All I can do is continue to stand here and let her eyes burn into mine. I move from her eyes to her lips. I can see her kiss-swollen lips but I cant make out the words she's saying. It's all silence to me. I stare at her lips with a far away look in my eyes. Memories of the last fives years replaying like an Old Hollywood movie reel, in my head. Not like a modern movie with pristine clarity but like the old sepia-toned films, where the picture seems blurry and frayed and you have to really strain your eyes to make out the details. I begin to strain to make out the details. What did I miss? What didn't I see? How long?...Why?

Without thinking I move my gaze to her chest. She put her shirt back on but it's still open, still unbuttoned. Her skin still exposed. And it somehow seems fitting that here she is in front of me with the buttons still undone. Because really, isn't it perfect, poetic justice? Everything has been undone in this moment and trying to reach for her buttons now would just be in vain.

I don't know why I do it, but I reach out a hand and I place it against her chest, against her heart. I think subconsciously, I wanted to feel her heart breaking the same way mine was breaking. I wanted to know she was in pain the way I was in pain. I wanted proof that the thousand pieces on the floor were not just mine but a bittersweet mosaic of both our hearts crumbling, together. I think I hoped for a chance that we could still be together, even if all we were doing together was... if all we did for the next few years was pick up each other's pieces and glue them back together.

I can feel her heated skin and her beating heart under my palm. Her words catch in her throat at the touch of my hand and she stops talking. Her sweet, beautiful heart. It's not breaking. In fact, there's a strong, confident beat that mine fails to replicate. For the first time in five years, we aren't in sync. I can feel her eyes on me but I don't bother looking up at her.

I just stand there, equally exposed, but in a different way. My eyes close and I breath out one solitary, premonitory word. "Goodbye".

I want her to chase after me. I hear her voice calling out my name as I make my way to the front door. I reach for the doorknob, I pause, I breathe. I give her a moment to get closer to me. I want her to wrap her arms around me and let me breakdown in the warmth, safety and security of her embrace. In that moment its all I want. I want to be close to her again. I want her to love me, again.

She's behind me, soft whispers of her breath against the skin of my neck. Shes that close. I want to turn around. I want to melt into her chocolate eyes and let her help me forgive her for all of this.

But something stops me. It's the same thing that stops her from reaching out for me, even though I'm so close, but maybe I'm already too far away.

And just like that, we let each other go.