Sometimes silence screams.

I could feel the anger and the sadness reverberate through the car.  Thank god I stopped to get a coffee…at least I had something else to do with my hands than grasp the wheel and the stick.  I could engage the sense of taste to distract from the other senses, shrieking with his pain.  

I knew this wasn’t going to be easy.  I sat there and let him go through his motions until we got home.  

I quietly got out of the car after his not-so-quiet door slam.  I stood in the grass, under the clear, starry sky, and watched as he tossed his bags into his car, took his parents' air conditioner from the house, said C-ya, and tore out of the drive-way.  

I stood there for a few more minutes, letting the cooling humid air swirl around me.  I listened to the sound of his engine get quieter and quieter in the distance.  Until it was gone.  He was gone.  

I could finally take a breath.  And I made it count.  I took a deep breath in, held it there, carefully, mindfully, and then slowly let the air seep out through my lips.  It seemed like I had air for days.  

My stomach churned a little bit.  But the tension in my shoulders went away.  The tears hung in the corners of my eyes, but they did not fall.  I looked down at my dog, who stood still at my side, staring up at me. 

“Come on, Sid,” I whispered.  He wagged his tail slightly and trotted, carefree, into the house.  I took slow, deliberate steps inside, turned around, and gently closed the door.  

I sat down in my satellite chair, hugged my knees to my chest, and let the silence ring in my ears.  I did it.  I just broke a good man’s heart.  

And here I am, sitting still, in a space somewhere between tears, nausea, and relief.