"I have to go."
"Ok."
"You're alright with this, right?"
"Of course."
"Please, I need you to be honest with me; are you okay with this?"
"I am. Trust me. I get it. It's really alright."
"Ok. I just needed to be sure."
~~~
She sat down.
These conversations weren't fun. As she had spoke to him there wasn't a resting feeling of conclusion or understanding. There was a gnawing feeling.
It was somewhere between the spike of a brutal migraine and the annoyance of hunger.
He sat down.
He understood her. It made sense, it really did, but knowing why something is the case doesn't change whether it hurts or not. His was an aching feeling.
It was between the wearisome strain of an old neck and the dizziness of sleepiness.
They sat.
~~~
"This is good."
"Yeah... yeah it is."
"And I'm okay with it, I promise."
"I'm glad."
"But it still sucks."
"It really does."
