Contagious Contentment

"Thank You."

It was the end of our conversation. I did it. I spilled my heart out. It didn't hurt at all -- no sting of shame or indignity. But still...

Pardon me if you have to see me this way. I'm not wounded, I'm not bleeding, but I'm still a mess. I know you're not used to seeing me like this. You came to my rescue. I owe you.

Sudden reverberation. I became aware of the sound of my own guitar. I looked up and I saw your hand, clumsily strumming the strings. An image of our future selves formed in my mind -- the two of us, still sharing music and friendship for the days to come. I felt really happy with the thought. It must have been written all over my face -- because you smiled.

ddd

Silence.

No, not the deafening, ear-splitting one. This stillness has a soothing and reassuring effect on me. I'm grateful. No words came from you. But one glance, one look in your eyes told me all I need to know.

You understand.