sometimes my thoughts come out differently

Paul wasn’t aware that he was being watched. He meticulously diced the tomatoes deep in his thoughts. The bright kitchen lights were illuminating everything, everything except what workings his neurons produced deep inside his head. Eric watched the dust settle in Paul’s heavy eyes. The small fire crackled producing extra warmth in their comfortable apartment on this cold Manhattan night. He had known for about a month now that Paul was drifting away. Had he met someone new? What was going on?
Eric had tread very lightly lately, not asking too many questions and allowing Paul his space; his heart slowly losing feeling, preparing itself for the inevitable.
Paul looked up, met Eric’s eyes, and smiled weakly; embarrassed he had been caught. Eric lowered his eyes embarrassed he too had been caught.
The night ensued mostly in silence, exchanging only a few pleasantries.

The following morning was Sunday and they usually attended a small church service followed by brunch at a café just across the street. Much to Eric’s surprise, Paul got ready just as he had most of the Sundays since they moved in together four years prior. Their six year anniversary was nearing. Eric wondered if they would make it to that mark. He would keep the apartment; Paul always talked about wanting to get out of the city, off the east coast altogether. He had friends in Phoenix that they would go visit in the winter to get out of the cold for a few days. Eric suspected that that is where Paul will go.

After brunch Paul opened the newspaper and settled in the big chair by the bay window and Eric began to pick up around the apartment and wrote a few letters to some friends with whom he had needed to get caught up. He bored them with news of his job, and the slow renovations he and Paul had been making in the apartment. “Do you want to walk to mail these with me?” he asked Paul. To his surprise again that day, Paul conceded.

The air was chilly, but the sun was out and when in the sun warmth could be detected. They walked in the usual silence and dropped the letters off. Eric turned to go home when Paul grabbed his hand, “Eric,” he said. “I know I’ve been distant lately and very unfair to you, and I know that you are giving me space, and I thank you for that.” Eric was bewildered. This was the longest sentence Paul had said to him in weeks, and addressing what was thick in the air at that. “Eric, I do love you. I’ve been doubting about if this is the right thing, if we belong together. But last night when I saw you looking at me, I realized that I’ve been far away from you and you knew it. And I’ve been lonely with you right there, always ready to give me what I need. And I realized that that’s what’s been missing in my life; you’ve been missing from my life because I’ve pushed you away, not wanting to accept the fact that I am human and that I need you, I need what you give me. I need your love, your smile, your touch, your laugh, your tears. They… you are a part of me now. And I’ve realized that, I’ve accepted that, and I love that I love you and need you.”