He would come. He said he would come.

Wouldn't be the first time he said something he didn't mean.

Months of silence, and now out of the blue returns an email. Not even a phone call. An email.

He's ready to give your things back.

This is it. This is the end. The end of what? You had no relationship. You never dated. He never looked at you the way you wanted him to, no matter how many times you wished he would. Not even in jest would he look at you like that.

But you could never remove the burning for him from your own eyes. He could always see it there; and he stayed away.

He stayed away from you.

You loaned him your laptop. To facilitate his life. And you loved knowing that he had something of yours. It was one more way to be sure that he couldn't in good conscience cut you out of his life.

But somehow he did anyway.

Silence. For 5 months.

And now he's going to return your things, cut your connections.

The doorbell rang. Your heart jumped to answer it, but you couldn't. You couldn't run to a meeting you knew would be your last.

Your mind was full of questions for him. But your pride stopped your tongue.

The crack in the door widened and he filled it. He didn't smile. Neither did you.

He was everything you remembered, and everything you forgot.

And still his eyes were cold for you.

He handed you a laptop, and you set it aside. He meant to chat, but he went straight for your soul without even trying. "Are you still writing?"

He couldn't know you wrote for him, about him, about everything he was and you wished you were. You wanted to say yes. But you couldn't. Pride wouldn't let you lie. "Not really." No inspiration...with him gone.

After that he stayed away from asking about you. Then he had to leave. He'd had enough. He'd waited long enough to be proper. He would leave and he wouldn't feel bad.

He leaned on one side of the door and you on the other. The last words pride would not let you forget: "Am I ever going to see you again?"

"I honestly can't answer that question."

"Because it's entirely your decision." For the first time all night you could meet his eyes. You would not shy away and look at his feet, at the wall, at anything that wasn't his face to keep from crying. The hardness would last as long as his leaving would take.

And thankfully that wouldn't be long.

If he wanted to, he'd have heard you crying before he walked away from the closed door.

But he never wanted to. He told you that he had heard it enough. And he walked away from your door, and out of your life. Too "polite" to tell you.

The red in your heart could not leave it alone. One last message. A cowardly text because you knew he'd never answer the phone if you called him.

"If you can't say yes, then it must be because you are too polite to say no. I will miss you."