The Sailors

“Can we at least try?”

Lily looks at me.  Her eyes brim with tears. I holdfast my own.

Two sailors, caught in a tempest.  

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this any more,” I finally say.  

Her silence destroys me.  I feel the burden of all her past loves.  

Lily ends the video call.  Moments later, she calls again.  

“Lily, we need to say goodbye the right way.”  I’m not sure there is one.  

Lily and I have been dating for six months.  We have been unhappy for five.  She loved me in three weeks.  I didn’t feel the same, but I said I appreciated it.  

There’s no good response when you don’t love someone back.  

Lily would often ask: “When will you love me?”  I feel the weight of that question every time.  

You can’t make a tree grow faster by overwatering it, I would say.  

I thought I could grow to love her.

But trees can also drown.