Green horizon

For a long time, I couldn't control myself. The sight of the passing branches and the approaching green horizon, like a wall, made my eyes widen.

Behind me was the chill of the railing I'd been leaning against.

"I have to tell you something," she said just moments ago, as we stood breathing in the fresh air.

I looked at her full of hope. I wanted her to say it.

"Listen," I asked

. "I've been thinking for a long time. I haven't slept almost all night," she rubbed her eyes, "and I don't know how to tell you this." Now she looked at me with her (rubbed) large, green eyes.

"You know how much..." I choked out through a tight throat.

"Listen," she interrupted, "listen to me very carefully...

I don't know how long I've been paralyzed. I know this weightlessness will end soon. I wave my arms and look at the branches. One, two.

The green horizon is getting closer and closer. Her last sentence echoes in my head, like a ball in a closed box.

Now the green horizon is getting closer and closer. I'll reach it in a moment. I'll just remember her last words again.

"I don't love you anymore..."