There was something of a movie in the setting; two people—two hearts—poised at the edge of destruction to occur as soon as they parted.

Rain fell from the black, night sky; soaking his head, and rolling off of the porch in front of her, falling onto their hands that were clasped so tightly. They were separated by the scarce curtain of water, him beneath the fall, her sheltered; but her hair still dripping, for—moments before—it was both of them sharing their last minutes together with the tears of the grief stricken heavens. The words were already shared, the kisses given. Now only the hardest part remained: saying goodbye, accepting the truth; saying it in the heart and mind, making it take place—an almost suicidal act of parting.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“It’s not that long—just a few months—not that long at all.”

She nodded. The words were finished; the speaking was just deepening the wound. He began to loosen his grip and she let her hands slide slowly from his. Hearts severed as one pair of hands disconnected, now only a few fingers remained, slipping away ever so reluctantly.

The final touch was dropped and the two hearts shattered, realizing just how difficult the separation would be. Hands lingered moments in the air before collapsing, dead without the touch of the other. He stepped back, she stepped back; once more, and a last time before he turned and she disappeared inside her home.

But even as they left each other, they knew—even as God knew—that not even this could keep them apart.