She didn't know what to say anymore. Words seemed too far away now. The both of them sitting so close, yet being farther away than they ever had before. He couldn't bear to look at her and yet he couldn't look away either. He loved her. He loved her and it was killing him because she couldn't explain why she had done the things she'd done. She'd fallen so far out of the realm of perfection. Maybe that was why she had sought out another because he had indirectly placed so much pressure on her.

She held her breath while he exhaled. She sat rigid while he fidgeted about. They had shouted all their actions out until neither of them had anything left. He couldn't love someone who had cut him so deep only to leave him a valley of rough edges and broken seams. How could she explain to him that he had made her feel like she was in a race to beat herself. She never felt like she was enough, not enough of the vision he placed.

Slowly, he felt the answer coming to him like the dwindling memory of a dream. Only this time, it was growing more apparent, more opaque. He felt sick to his stomach at the thought of giving up all the time they had together. The pages and pages of memories and plans and love that they had written together.

She got up, he followed suit. Without word, she kissed him on the cheek, he cupped her face in his hands and then they parted ways. She to the right where she would find a new life of traveling alone. She would see many skies from many different places. She'd sleep in different beds with different men of all cultures and corners of the world, but she'd always wonder what would have happened if she had fought harder for the one kind of love that she'd let her selfishness give up on.

He would go to the left, finding that he was good enough and deserved more out of life. He'd go on to find himself falling in love with another woman. One that he found safe and reassuring. Complacent. He would love her and she would love him, but it was passionless. It was an easy love. They would argue over which college their son would go to, and then he would stop and realize it didn't matter. He would let her choose. Some nights he would stop and wonder what would have happened if he had learned to forgive the sun fore he knew that she burned too brightly to be contained. He wondered if he should have kept trying because even though he had fallen for her brightness and gotten burned, would it have been worth fighting through the pain.

What if?