They ate sandwiches on a rubble wall, while witnessing the grandeur of the silent city from afar; it was a brooding scene, even though it was a sunny day.
They talked about what it would be like to endure each others’ death as they rested their bare feet on the stones that looked fragile, but ones that had stood despite violent storms. They guessed they would refuse to speak to anyone for weeks, consumed with pain and anger. They imagined how they would become recluse in their own homes with only their Aran jumpers and loss marking their life with a distinctive quality.
What they would never guess was how uneventful their love would turn out. How void of anything worthy of engrossing themselves in. They would never come to know the sweet-tragedy of losing a loved one.14