Goodbye", she said.

"Goodbye".

The words drifted out of his mouth, and floated between the small amount of air hanging between their lips. A tear dropped from her eye, and landed on the jumble of their tightly clenched fists. Their feet and their forehead were the only ones bold enough to crave being together, as everything else was moving away.

It had come to this. Two hearts tugging so strong that they push each other way. After all, they couldn't hurt each other.

"I love you".

An eternity passed.

"I love you".

They always saw it coming. This moment. This precise moment, had always been etched into their minds, like a memory from the future. Holding hands and crying. No drama. A mutual understanding. As it always had been. No bullshit, yes, that's what they wanted. They got each other. It felt too good to be true. But things can, in fact, be too good to be true. Such things have a cruel tendency to end a lot sooner than one would like. But they exist. Such is their curse. It would have been much simpler, if things were, without a shadow of doubt, too good to be true. All great things would have had a catch, a weakness, a gotcha, a little something to point out that, yes, that proves the old adage right.

How merciful, that would have been. Too merciful, for the nonchalant reality of the uncaring cosmos, that in the infinite chaos of cacophonous noise, some notes fall into place, precisely. Not with divine intervention, not a reward for being nice human beings, not as karmic fruits of altruism. No, the universe doesn't care. Instead, the notes align, out of pure chance, sometimes, with the desires of two little humans trying to make sense of the noise.

And they danced to the music, alright. They danced the best kind. They danced, not with loud flamboyance, with synchronized steps in the middle of street, living in the moment, not a care in the world. But, they danced, with their thoughts. In their thoughts. In each others thoughts, in each others hearts, they danced.

Her thoughts tap-danced in his arms, before every starry night, breathtaking valley, and breezy mountain-top they beheld. His mind slow-danced to a soft number when they shared a laugh that no-one got. When she rested her head on his shoulder, when he rested his head in her lap, when she kissed his cheeks, when he kissed her forehead, their heart, mind and soul, danced together.

A tear rolled down his cheek. They didn't say anything. Goodbye, and I love you. They thought themselves better than to be dramatic. They wished they didn't. The resistance, the urge to scream, ever present, ever suppressed. Rationale, and understanding, taking center stage. They wish it didn't. For once, they wished to be stupid. To not know that the other wished so too. But they did. They knew. The eternal silence between them was the loudest, most deafening, most chaotic moments they shared between them. Appreciating each other, even when letting go. Letting go because they appreciate each other. This is best for you.

"You know, usually, goodbyes are followed by people, ya know, leaving".

A pathetic attempt at sarcastic humor, to bring sufficient awareness to the moment, in a vain attempt to take some of it's power away. But they both know it's not going to work. It never worked. All it served to do was detach themselves and make them look at it. And recognize that the other did. Perfect understanding, perfect notes, perfect melodies. A perpetual crescendo without closure.

"Take care".

"You too".

Their foreheads parted first. Their fingers unwrapped after. Their eyes refused for while, lingered, for a while. Then glanced down. Hers at his fist, which, he always clenched his thumb when in pain. His, at her elbow, which she always covered with the other palm when in pain. Tell-tale signs they learned to instinctively look out for. Their eyes locked again, acknowledged the observation. The corner of their lips twitched. Their gaze parted soon. Their feet parted the last, for it is our feet we are least aware of, that give away a lot about us.

The crescendo faded without the crash of cymbals, the melody of the universe dissolved back into chaotic noise, and the experience of listening to a song for the first time was over, never to be felt again.

At least not for the same song.