Silence
I answered the questions of the official appointed to the case, slowly, methodically, pausedly.\I remember all that.
Why did you wait, he asks, and then, I have to look to my left. I am at a loss for words, and my eyes suddenly fill with the uncomfortable sting of tears, the unspoken admission of permanent loss, the pain that is to leave.
He respects my silence, but I am embarrassed. Finally, I look him into the eyes, mine still glingting from the effort, almost as if daring him to mock the sadness. I am furious for this display of emotion, yet a few words manage to scape: "I didn't want to leave."
He looks at me, with wide eyes, and says nothing. He turns around to his computer, and I silently thank him for the discretion.
That was a defining moment.