We’d been in deep waters for quite some time and I couldn’t tell whether there was a way back. Once your feet can’t touch the ground, you don’t really know if you’re one step away from saving yourself or you’re drowning in the middle of the ocean.  

By no means am I putting this on him. Relationships are a joint venture both in success and mediocrity. On Saturdays, he would stay up at night to watch basketball. On Thursdays I would come home from yoga so tired, I would barely make it into the shower before passing out on the bed. Like two cars on a highway, we would speed down life in parallel lanes, hoping this road had a destination similar to our beginnings – a place where our thoughts and bodies got tangled in a web weaved by bees.  

“What’s for dinner?” 

“Salad.” 

“With..?” 

I placed the salad bowl on the table and threw my eyes on him as heavy as I could. He morphed his face and turned his attention on the moving images playing on the screen across from him. It’s funny how beginnings and endings are opposites yet so much alike. When we first met we didn’t need many words to communicate as our bodies would take over and speak in touches and kisses. Now, we still don’t need the words but bodies have given way to looks full of resentment and bitterness. 

“What’s your favorite color?”  

“Purple.” 

“You also like winter so if I had to guess, Purple Rain is your favorite song?” He laughed. I smiled. 

We were sitting on a bench outside the Royal Festival Hall on the south bank of the river and his attempt for humor was like a glass of cold water after an afternoon run in the park. It was one of those five days of summer granted to the capital every year – that small window of opportunity when Londoners can’t help but show their bare legs and emotions. We walked along the river towards the Tate. His eyes never wandered away from the vicinity of my figure whilst his right hand would populate and evacuate my left palm in a silent yet rhythmic pattern.  

“Did you wash my good pair of jeans?” 

“Yeah, they’re in the tumble dryer. I’ll have them ready for tomorrow morning.” 

From a princess promised to be treated like a queen I certainly felt like a maid.  

I want to talk to him about this, about us. About what we’ve become since moving in together. I’ll finish this batch of clothes and do it. Oh the big game is on TV tonight. Guess it can wait one more day.