She recalled a conversation they had a couple of years back. She was telling him that even though he wasn't intrinsic to her existence up until then, she couldn't imagine life without him thereafter.
"Hmmm. I can't say the same. My life hasn't gotten better or worse after knowing you. Nothing has changed and if you're no longer around, it's likely that nothing will change," he said.
I'm sure he feels the same even now, she thought. After all, he hasn't expressed an ounce of emotion in all this time and our derailment has barely put a dent in his demeanour. It's like I haven't been around these past few years. I am not even a figment of his imagination anymore. So if anyone should be able to do it, it's him.
She dialled his number and waited until he answered with a "Yes?"
"I want you to do it because I certainly can't," she got straight to the point.
"Do what?" he asked.
"Stick a fork in it and say it's done... we're done. What is the point of prolonging it?" The words came tumbling out of her mouth.
"And what makes you think I can do it?" he said, after a brief pause.
"Because you seem so detached from it all. You carry on like nothing has happened. You have your other sources of supply so does it matter if I'm still around or not? Just let me go... or rather tell me... in as many words that you want me gone."
He was silent for a few seconds, before softly saying, "Go."
She fumbled before finally whispering, "Goodbye."
He remained silent.
"Are you there?" She asked but there was still no response.
"Aren't you even going to say goodbye?"
The silence continued. She could hear the ambient sounds of his workplace and even the faint sound of his breathing. She hung up and walked up to the mirror. "It's done now. That was another life. It's in the past now." She said to herself. But the silence had plans of its own. It had crossed over into this realm and was surreptitiously wrapping its cold fingers around her neck.
"Now we're done," the silence whispered the next morning, just before she was found lying slumped against her bedside table.
"Hmmm. I can't say the same. My life hasn't gotten better or worse after knowing you. Nothing has changed and if you're no longer around, it's likely that nothing will change," he said.
I'm sure he feels the same even now, she thought. After all, he hasn't expressed an ounce of emotion in all this time and our derailment has barely put a dent in his demeanour. It's like I haven't been around these past few years. I am not even a figment of his imagination anymore. So if anyone should be able to do it, it's him.
She dialled his number and waited until he answered with a "Yes?"
"I want you to do it because I certainly can't," she got straight to the point.
"Do what?" he asked.
"Stick a fork in it and say it's done... we're done. What is the point of prolonging it?" The words came tumbling out of her mouth.
"And what makes you think I can do it?" he said, after a brief pause.
"Because you seem so detached from it all. You carry on like nothing has happened. You have your other sources of supply so does it matter if I'm still around or not? Just let me go... or rather tell me... in as many words that you want me gone."
He was silent for a few seconds, before softly saying, "Go."
She fumbled before finally whispering, "Goodbye."
He remained silent.
"Are you there?" She asked but there was still no response.
"Aren't you even going to say goodbye?"
The silence continued. She could hear the ambient sounds of his workplace and even the faint sound of his breathing. She hung up and walked up to the mirror. "It's done now. That was another life. It's in the past now." She said to herself. But the silence had plans of its own. It had crossed over into this realm and was surreptitiously wrapping its cold fingers around her neck.
"Now we're done," the silence whispered the next morning, just before she was found lying slumped against her bedside table.
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