Instant message slows time

This happened a nearly a month ago now. Can only find the words.

A blank period goes by. I can feel his silence through the monitor. I know about these silences of his. I've seen them. He's holding his breath, sitting in front of the computer screen with brows knit in concentration. With my coffee mug between my hands, I hold my breath and stare at the screen. For the first time in months this is the closest we've felt. Bonded by this experience on opposite sides of the world.

He is writing a message.

I don't know.

More circular exchanges and what if's. What if I came back? Is there anyone else? The careful discourse of the modern long distance relationship-time apart, re-evaluation, your needs, my needs.

Guilt and anger rise and fall. I feel trapped. I find myself thinking of sex. And death. Is that wrong?

I type Goodbye.

Still I go on staring at the screen, waiting for something to happen. The cursor blinks like a heartbeat. Maybe he'll change his mind. Maybe he has forgotten something he wanted to say. Maybe he is wrapped up in guilt, remorse and regret. Does he think about those final days together?

What's he doing now? Going to the pub for cans and mindless one night stands? Not feeling a thing inside.

I give up and try to empty my mind. But I can't think of anything else. I'm sorry, but I just can't.
A terrible quiet has descended on everything. It is raining gently. Londoners march the streets with eyes downcast. Cars cut through puddles. The world is grey and flat. It is slowing down.