The finish line came way too early. You know I wanted to keep on running. You know I wasn’t even halfway done.
“I can go on if you want me to,” I tell you.
“Don’t bother.” Your answer shoots out of you without a thought.
So it’s like that, huh?
“Is this really the end?” I ask.
You turn your head away from me, looking for something that isn’t there. You pretend not to hear me.
I look at the ground, ignored, unnoticed, as always.
“What am I to you?” I try to keep the conversation alive. I try to make you see that this is real, that you have to deal with this right now.
“The weather’s nice today, isn’t it? We should go somewhere where we can enjoy the sun a bit longer.”
That’s your answer? I’m right here, you know.
You’re still looking away. It’s like there’s a wall between us, like you can’t hear what I say. I’m looking for words. I’m searching my mind for something that will make you listen. Suddenly, you flinch. You look at me with a puzzled expression.
The elephant in the room begins to speak.
“We’re nothing. We never were. You’ve been fighting a losing battle from the start,” you say, as if you had just woken up from a daydream.
“I see.” The realization of the obvious makes me nauseous. I feel a merciless anger growing inside of me. I want to cry hot tears of rage. But I compose myself. I keep on believing, keep on hanging on to this lost cause. Why? Because hope dies last? No. Because I don’t want to be left alone with myself. Because we have something good going. It may be destructive, toxic and deadly, but it’s something. If only you could see what I see, feel what I feel. But I guess you never did and you never will.
The elephant keeps on talking without any intention of shutting up. Its voice changes to a higher pitch. It sweats. It’s staring down the barrel of your gun. We could be so much more, you can see it too, I know you can. Why do you ignore the possibilities and cast me out? Why do you want to end something that could become far greater than it already is? Why can’t you see what… You pull the trigger. The elephant collapses, coughs and screams. It bleeds violently, we are drowning together in a red sea. With a look of visible confusion the elephant dies. The wall breaks. The words disappear. Darkness settles in. Everything’s quiet.