ANALYSETHIS.

"The world is turning, but the sun and I are holding still. Where did we go wrong? Was it something I did, or said? Or was it you? Tell me! Where did we go wrong?"
Your eyes. My eyes. So many secrets. When will the world stop turning and you give me a reason to live again? We were so happy, you and me. We were the definition of all that love encompasses. So what happened? What went wrong? I wish things would go back to normal. I wish we would make love again, and not just fuck. I wish your eyes would tell me truths again, instead of lies. I wish you would love me again.
"I wish we could start over. How about that? It wasn't you, or me, for that matter. It was just.. What do you call it... It was just....life. I guess." He shrugged. "I don't know what to say or do to make it all work again. I can only think of how we used to be. Perfect. So all I know is that it is possible for us to make it through. Doesn't every couple go through shit like this?"
"Like who?" I asked him.
"Like... David and Sam, for example," he answered.
"No shit, they went through hell. They´re not your regular couple, though. So who else?"
"Erm.. Patrick and Lydia."
"Pat and Lydia never have problem´s- they go to all parties together, make love everywhere, and are basically a married couple. Without all the shit that marriage brings, that is," I said reflectively.
He started laughing. "They go through shit alright."
"How would you know? It´s not like you´re Pat´s best friend or anything," I said. "And I can´t stand Lydia. With that obnoxious laugh of hers and the way she moves her hands when she talks.."
"Why do you think she laughs like that? It´s her look-at-me-I´m-careless-and-carefree-laugh. Means something is wrong and you know it. It´s all fake. She wants people to think what they think, but on the inside the obnoxious laughter you speak of, is only a cry for help," Fredrik looked at me. I said, bored, "Since when have you become so analytical, huh?" I downed my ice tea.
You never analyse me. The one screaming for help, is me. If you´d have paid any attention to me whatsoever, we weren´t in this shit right now.
"Since I´ve been with you," he said.
"Since you´ve been with me," I sounded like a parrot. An unbelieving parrot.
"Yes. You sit here, thinking what to do with me. You stare into my eyes, beggin me why I don´t ´analyse´ you. But I do, Zoya. I do."
What to do now? What to say?
"And now you´re wondering what to do." He laughed again. "You see, it´s easy. Your eyes tell me everything. Your truths, lies, secrets." He paused. "And one more thing."
"And what would that one thing be," I whispered breathlessly. He smiled warmly.
"That we´re going to make it."