The Parting

         Lacy and I etched our names into the park bench at the beginning of sophomore year. Back then, things seemed like they’d last forever, but now as I walked slowly up the sidewalk to where she was already waiting for me, arms crossed and eyes cast down towards the ground, I wasn’t so sure of it.

         “You’re late,” she remarked.

         “I’m sorry, the guy in front of me was going like ten miles per hour,” I replied. I sat down next to her and there was a long instance of silence.

         “Two years,” she said with a sad smile.

         “Yeah, two years,” I replied mirroring her expression. We both struggled awkwardly to find our words. Looking down at the bench I could just barely make out our names housed inside of a crudely drawn heart. They had faded over the past couple of years though the heart had miraculously managed to stay quite visible. We both stared down at our feet like if we didn’t say anything else the moment could last forever.

         Finally after a long time in that verbal purgatory, I stood up wordlessly and began walking slowly back to my car.

         “I love you,” I mouthed silently.