Words Waiting to be Spoken

There were words waiting to be spoken. There were things unsaid. There were so many words left unspoken. So many accusations left unmade and far too many unused denials left waiting.

Each of us charted our course through our lives around these things left unsaid as though we knew they were the reefs that would wreck us, each of us waiting for the other to flounder on the rocks that lay half-submerged under the shifting tides of the everyday.

Neither of us wanted to be the one left shipwrecked and alone, while the other sailed off into deeper, clearer waters, left to construct some crude facsimile of a life out of the flotsam and wreckage left behind.

There was just too much to avoid, times when it seemed easier to sail blind into disaster rather than spending all the time and effort changing course and plotting a safe route through to the calmer safe waters in the harbour of night time. A safe berth where both of us would lie together at anchor in the bed, listening to the waves of the other’s breathing lapping against the hours of darkness.

Then, the day came when she no longer came home. She had gone, sailing off without me to new found lands across oceans too deep for me to follow and I was left behind on these now-empty shores waiting for another ship to come sailing by.