By anonymous
Date: 22 January 1998

Shh

"Shh," she says.  More a sound than a word, she utters it into the night.  
But he doesn't hear.  He's lost in a reality that isn't real.  He's 
drowning in a sea of doubt, a lake of tears.  

"Does she love me?"  He murmurs to himself, but she doesn't hear.  She's 
busy working, finishing up one of the many projects that had lain 
half-done all month.  "Be back in a sec," she says, and fades into her 
own world. 

She reaches out to touch him in the dark, but he shys away.  Is he 
afraid?  She wonders, and prays.  When was the last moment when we were 
in tune?  Was there ever a moment when one of us wasn't hurt? 

He comes close to crying.  Even though years of being a man have taught 
him not to let tears fall, he can't help it.  She's off in la-la land 
again. Working, she says.  Busy, she says.  But is she telling me the 
truth?  How can I trust someone I can't even see? 

She stops.  Startled, she realizes that she's hurting.  Distraction had 
worked until now, until she saw how much it was tearing him apart.  Is it 
too late? 

He starts to cry in earnest.  Is it too late to right our wrongs? Is her 
heart where mine belongs?  Memories of kisses and touches and soft 
murmurs in the night flood over him.  What would she say if she could 
see me now? 

"Shh," she says.  And she steps back into his space.  She climbs over the 
barriers of time and emotional walls.  She wields her love like a sword, 
tearing down their fear.  

He becomes quiet as she appears before him.  And he reaches out to touch 
her.

And she reaches out for him.

And the world explodes in a shower of fire and tears and smiles and 
screams of pure joy.  This is love, he thinks. 

"Shh," she says, as she pulls him towards her.  And her quiet sound melts 
into their flesh as they touch once again.