Silent moments.

There was a silence, an almost numbness in the air itself. They should have talked. They didn't. It should have mattered. It didn't. What the two hearts were aching to hear should have been said. But it was as if the dead calm of the night had enveloped itself over everything. There was love but more hurt; there were feelings but strongly suppressed; there were they, supposed to be talking about things that perhaps meant the whole life to them, but instead engaged in their own soliloquies. Both of them wanted to ask questions, both of them wanted to answer some questions, but both of the let the time fly, quietly and uncomfortably. Many things remained unsaid, few insignificant things were spoken. What should have been, could have been. And what could have been, is not.