(Excerpted from another longer fictional piece, from within my repository)
You sat at the white table. Almost silent, but never quiet. You spoke a sentence now and then. Something light, something topical, something to fill up the moment. I knew, though, that our silence bothered you. In the past, when you would be more open, you had called it the pungent silence. I had truly hated you in those moments.
Today, though, I see your point. We have a repugnent silence. That awkward nothingness, that is actually anonymous, but yet riles. As you speak the meaningless trifles, I register nothing. Almost nothing. It occurs to me, you are trying to be someone who you are not.
Not the first time it has occurred to me. I had always loved you. Until one bright day, when I saw your rough edges. Then some more. To a point where all that was left was spikes and spears. You always told me "Spin, there is nothing I dislike about you. I like all 1000 pieces of you."
Fucking hell. Fucking liar. I never once believed you on that. Never. And every single time you called me Spin, I would intentionally call you "Tail". I liked the name Spin then, and love it even today. Yet, something today, about that name sounds so hollow. Shallow too.
Something in me bothered you. Deeply. My imperfections. My aging, possibly. My biological slowing down. You never admitted to it. Ever. Even today. I am here clutching my heart and all wonder. Tail, I expected you to be honest. That's all.
Your black humor never bothered me so much, though it sometimes did. When it did, I told you so. In response you lost your edge, you blunted your humor to a point of being pliant, and less abrasive, your speech and tone gained a tone of obsequious boredom. The voice of a broken tail.
Tail, today, I saw you steal a glance at my hands. Your eyes lingered for a moment longer than necessary. I noticed. In that moment, my heart fluttered like the old times. I prayed to my dear Ganesha, give this fucking idiot the courage to lift my hand and kiss it. With the gentleness like he once did. With gay abandon. With joy, and woo me like a love-struck teenager would.
Tail, as you sat there talking - none of the topics I remember, I see a broken and lost soul. Someone I care for immensely. Someone I would love to fly away with. Someone who I would love to be with forever.
In that same moment, I also see, that that might never ever happen. You have built a fortress around you. In that fortress sleeps Tail. Spin has no gatepass. In that cage, you are the one who is trapped and isolated. There is no possible "us".
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