I can never tell you how lonely I am

It was one those days. Where the earth sighed in contentment after a rain drench. The air heavy with the misty sprays. And people walked in lazy languor in the hope that the weekend would follow their pace.

And they walked too... Oblivious of people and their thoughts. In the rickety elevator, they held hands pretending to be oblivious to the frown of the bald guy with the religious line on his forehead.

His little space of a balcony… Which looks out to the lonely little temple on the hill to which no path led. He holds her. His hands touched her in suggestive places.

Sighing in contentment, she whispered, “What is the one thing that you would want to do with me?"

He was always one to have a lag in his answers. Like in those old long distance telephone calls. She was used to his pauses.

"Spend the rest of my life with you"

An act of sex would have been what she expected. And that would have been so much easier.

And that's how he said what she didn't want to hear.

And that's how he said something he'll never say again.

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The hill now has some grooves cut into it and there is the temple.
His hands touch me in suggestive places. But he holds me without words.