0:00 The lightbulb in the hallway burned out three weeks ago.0:05 I keep meaning to change it, but my feet just… stop at the edge of the darkness each night.0:14 Last week we talked about the cherished things people leave behind, the sweaters and photographs you can hold in your hands.0:25 But we never talk about the voids.0:29 The empty spaces where things used to happen.0:33 Nobody leaves behind a burned-out lightbulb.0:37 It’s just a quiet testament to the fact that you’re not here to notice it, either.0:45 And I’m the only one left to stand in the dark.0:49 It’s funny.0:51 The end wasn’t an explosion.0:53 It was a handshake.0:55 Three months ago, at that little coffee shop on Mercer.1:00 The one with the chipped blue mugs.1:04 You said you had a free hour, and I pretended I did too.1:09 I remember tracing the condensation on my water glass, trying to memorize the feeling of the cold against my fingers, because I knew… I knew it was the last time.1:24 You asked how my mom was.1:27 I asked about your new project at work.1:31 Every question was a carefully placed stone, building a wall right there on the table between us.1:40 I wanted to reach across and just… knock it all down.1:45 I wanted to scream, “Why are we doing this?1:49 Why are we being so polite?1:52 Don’t you feel this?” But the air was so thick with everything we weren’t saying.1:59 It felt like if I even whispered your name with the wrong kind of weight, the whole cafe would shatter.2:09 So I just nodded.2:11 And smiled.2:12 And when you said, “Well, I should get going,” I said, “Yeah.2:18 You too.” And we stood.2:20 And you hesitated.2:22 And for one, single, agonizing second, I thought you were going to hug me.2:29 But you just… stuck out your hand.2:32 And I took it.2:33 Your skin was warm.2:35 It was the most dishonest touch of my entire life.2:40 Before that, though.2:42 Before the coffee shop performance.2:45 There was the silence.2:47 Oh, the silence was the real ending.2:51 It had been moving in for months, like a quiet, uninvited roommate.2:57 I think it started on the couch.3:00 Six months ago?3:02 Seven?3:02 We used to fold into each other, my head on your chest, the rhythm of your breathing the only soundtrack I needed.3:13 But then… we started sitting apart.3:16 Just an inch at first.3:19 Then a cushion.3:20 Then you were at one end with your laptop, and I was at the other with my phone, and the only light in the room was that cold, blue glow on our faces.3:34 I remember looking over at you one night.3:38 Your brow was furrowed, concentrating on something on your screen.3:45 And I felt this… this wave of absolute loneliness wash over me.3:51 You were three feet away, and you might as well have been on the moon.3:57 The silence wasn't angry.4:00 That would have been easier.4:02 An angry silence is full of things that want to be said.4:08 This was an empty silence.4:10 A hollowed-out silence.4:12 It was the sound of two people who had run out of words for each other.4:19 We had talked for years, endlessly.4:22 About everything and nothing.4:25 And then, one day, we just… stopped.4:29 There was no decision.4:31 No announcement.4:32 The conversation just… evaporated.4:36 And we let it.4:37 I keep trying to find the moment.4:40 The one thing.4:41 The hinge on which it all swung the wrong way.4:46 I think… I think it was that night in October.4:50 The night I got the call that my dad was sick.4:55 Not the bad sick, not yet, but the kind of sick that puts the word ‘mortality’ in your head for the first time.5:05 I came into the bedroom, and you were already half-asleep.5:11 I just stood by the door, holding my phone.5:15 And you rolled over, and you said, “Everything okay?” Your voice was thick with sleep.5:23 And I wanted to say no.5:25 I wanted to crawl into that bed and tell you that I was terrified.5:32 That the whole world felt like it was tilting on its axis and I didn't know how to stand up straight.5:41 I opened my mouth.5:43 And I saw how tired you were.5:46 You’d had that awful week at work, that deadline from hell.5:51 Your shoulders were slumped even in sleep.5:55 And a voice in my head, a terrible, practical voice, said, ‘Don’t.6:02 Don’t add this to his plate.6:04 He’s too tired.’ So I just said… “Yeah.6:08 Everything’s fine.6:10 Just a work thing.” And I saw the relief on your face as you rolled back over.6:17 You were asleep again in seconds.6:20 And I went and sat on the couch, in the dark, by myself.6:26 I thought I was protecting you.6:29 I thought I was being strong.6:31 But what I was really doing… was teaching myself how to be alone.6:38 I was teaching US that we could handle our fears separately.6:43 And we got so, so good at it.6:46 We practiced it every day, until it was the only thing we knew how to do.6:53 The love didn't die in a fight.6:56 It starved to death in the quiet, because we forgot how to ask each other for food.7:04 The first night we spent in this apartment, we didn’t have any furniture.7:11 Just a mattress on the floor and two boxes of books we used as a table.7:18 We ordered a pizza and ate it on paper plates, sitting cross-legged, and we talked until the sun came up.7:28 About our stupid childhood dreams, about the scars we had, about the first time we each thought we might be in love.7:39 There was no space between us.7:42 Not an inch.7:43 Your breath on my neck, your knee touching mine, our voices weaving together into one long, continuous story.7:53 It was so easy then.7:55 We didn’t have to try.7:57 The connection was just… there.8:00 A current running between us.8:03 I see it now.8:04 The story isn’t about how the current stopped.8:09 It’s about how we slowly, quietly, unplugged all the cords, one by one, until there was nothing left to carry the charge.8:20 The love was real.8:22 The silence was just more practiced.
