It was always the same fight. We were messy throughout. So much so that after it ended I could no longer recollect anything but the ugly. We were always unhappy, I was always crying, you were always emotionally unavailable. I was thunder, you were lightning and the sun never came to break apart our angry clouds constantly colliding against one another.

But sometimes the rain doesn't pour, and I'm forced to acknowledge the quiet.

It was after the first of the bigger fights, at least, the first to last that long. We wasted away the whole night trying to rectify the problem that we still did not yet know was non-rectifiable.

It was an indication - albeit one I had yet to notice at the time. The way I always leaned in more towards you and you would try to turn away. The fact that you only wrapped your arm around me if I put my head on your shoulder first. But at the time, you would still ask if I was okay. You would still care.

I think it was the first time the prospect of our futility incepted itself into my mind. Yet the nugget of uncertainty was so small, I did not consciously detect it, or perhaps I simply chose not to identify it.

I stopped talking. You didn't start.

Amazing how all the words exchanged between our successive fights and attempts at consolation never amounted to the muted message that fifteen minutes of comfortable silence could impart on me. Amidst the feel of the cool breeze and sounds of soft taps of water against a tin roof and the headlights blurring in and out of the lonely dark road that encompassed our field of vision, lay the apex of you and me.

The calm before the storm. The pinnacle before the edge. The sharp intake of breath before an anticipated jump scare. The momentary weightlessness before the rollercoaster drops.

Fifteen minutes of your warm neck against my tear stained cheek. Your slender fingers encased around my trembling hand. Your soft breathing against my ear. The rhythm of raindrops against the pavement ticking the seconds away from our eventual downfall.

I broke the silence.

"I don't need any validation", I said, truthfully.
"Hold on to that feeling", you told me.

Then we broke apart.