Her nudity felt vulnerable and shameful, next to his t-shirt and boxers on.
He sat there holding in a life-line. “It´ll be fine” he could have said.
Instead, he just watched her, drown in a sea of self-pity and loathing.

Like babies must get to their parents when they´re left alone to cry.
A gap, building strength, independence, character
or what she felt; wounds of negligence.

She knew she was strong enough to save herself,
that the wave would calm like it had before.
Watching her without a sound,
made her most treasured ability, her greatest insecurity.
Words
pushed him away,
his silence a lesson impossible to decipher for her without them.
A gap that could never be closed.

“It all feels so wrong” she complained pacing in their 20 square meter room.
“My life, what I´m doing with it… What am I doing with it?” looking to him for reassurance.

He starts rolling a cigarette.
Sitting at the desk he put together for their home office.

“I mean, I know we´re coming down from the weekend, but I just feel like everything is so wrong, you know?”

Licking the glue he looks at her in a blank stare and starts fumbling for a lighter.
Takes a newly lit drag and watches the smoke as it spreads into the room.

“I´m going to make us some breakfast” he says getting up, walking out, shutting the door behind him.

All he had to do was not even say anything, but hold her, and all would be well in the world.