(Just pretend, for today, that we’ve been married for 25 years and we know each other so well that we don’t feel compelled to speak just to hear our own voices. Pretend, for today, that we’re going on a long trip in the car, and we’re happier saying nothing, and realizing that in saying nothing we’re actually saying quite a lot.
Just pretend, for today, that you took a wrong turn somewhere, even though our ride was just a leisurely one with no set destination, and we wound up lost in a thickly wooded area on a dirt road with no street lights, and we have a flat tire, but we can’t call AAA because you forgot to charge your cell phone and you told me I didn’t have to bring mine because, really, why would we need two phones if we were going to be together all day and I’m silly to think that maybe I’d be, like, kidnapped or something and need my phone to call for help when my abductors locked me in the trunk of a stolen car.
Pretend, just for today, that now we’re in those woods, and it’s getting cold, and now we when we have nothing to say to each other, it’s not because we’re so comfortable with each other that we don’t have to speak, but because we know that if we open our mouths one of us will be saying something horrible that later we will claim we didn’t really mean but that we both know contained more than just a kernel of truth.
Pretend, just for today, that we decided not to take that car ride after all and stayed inside because the forecast was for rain. And we both know how much we love the rain and staying inside not doing much of anything, which to us is doing everything.)