No longer enough

Jane chewed on her self-baked bread with cheese and tomatoes as she looked out the window. The world flew by the van and she was quite enjoying the calm landscape. Makoa had chosen a touristic road over the highway. The sun was slowly setting and painted the sky majestically in all kinds of shades. The world around them grew quieter, only leaving the small wind organ by the front mirror to make small sounds by the movement of the van. Moments like this, which Jane used to love, had become moments she wished she could skip. Makoa held the steer with one hand and had his gaze on the road, but he seemed anything but present. Like he appeared to be most of the time. In the past two years her lively soulmate who always had been exploring life, trying to capture it and preserve its beauty in his artwork, had lost his fire. His inner song had been silenced and none of her music could inspire him to continue writing his symphony. Her music was no longer enough.

Jane had tried everything she had thought of: comfort him, let him be, dance, sing, ignoring, shouting, laughing, crying. For a moment she had even taken up drawing for a while, hoping he would join her or correct her. But it had not mattered. None of her efforts had paid off.

A few weeks ago, Jane had nearly began to accept the situation and would almost allow herself down the endless pit without light as well. Almost, because then the anger took over and her strength took the reins. Jane decided it had been enough and she would take no more. She accepted the fact that Makoa (and she herself) would not make it on themselves. But Jane did not want Makoa to take any medication or lay on a couch talking to some stiff lipped woman who had never truly lived herself. So, Jane decided to return to her hometown, where she and Makoa had spent their first years together. Most of their first years, since they had always loved travelling around. Perhaps, instead of traveling, it would be good for Makoa to return to a place of good memories. Perhaps that would unlock the chains of his captivity.

Of course there were risk. There was always the chance that it would not help, and Jane would be completely helpless should that happen. And people might ask question, but Jane could just ignore them.

But it was worth a shot after all; there was nothing more she could do.