Avoid At All Cost

Sorry today's piece is so short. I'll try to write something longer in the days to come.

The silence between us was defeaning. Neither of us knew what to say, so we just sat there, for what seemed like hours. Isaac looked like a rock, his chest barely even rising and falling when he breathed. His eyes were focused on the city lights out in the distance, a small patch of glittering specs against the dark valley landscape. Every so often I glanced over at him, preparing to spark the conversation that was inevitable and seriously prolonged. Yet each time I took that deep breath in, ready to open my mouth, words never left my lips, but silence just followed the stillness from before.

I never imagined that it would be so hard to say goodbye to him. We grew up together and became each other's confidant―he was the only one who knew everything about me. It was easy, so effortless, for me to talk to Isaac, and he never held anything back from me either. Sometimes we had so much to tell each other, we'd overlap one another, babbling on and on for hours. Although, we'd never talk about anything of utter importance, just every day life, and some meaningless topics that held our attention for a few minutes before we moved on to another subject of discussion. It was ironic: now that we had something important to talk about, neither of us wanted to say anything.