They were too alike in temperament. That much was obvious, perhaps to everyone but themselves. He realized before she did. They were just…too similar.
Perhaps not as similar as they needed to be. As she reflected back on years of jaunts together, she remembered–she realized–what their differences truly were. Countless quiet rejections came to mind. Rejections that he hadn’t meant, because he didn’t mean anything. And she meant everything.
That was it. Truly, it was. It had to be. How could someone so passionate in everything she did meet with one so neutral? It couldn’t be done. It wouldn’t be done.
She gazed out the rainy window, droplets cluttering her view to the outside, just like the memories in her mind. Good memories. Memories that were all for naught.
I am a candle, she reminded herself. A fireball. And he is a vacuum. A lack of anything. He would have extinguished the light, eventually. You’re lucky to have known before the light went out.
It was just as he had said. “Everyone expects it, Jo.” Everyone who knows nothing. Because the union they were expecting would never come to be.
Won’t that surprise them, she thought. Good. Let them be surprised. And let me glow brightly again.