It was eleven in Santiago when midnight cruised across Buenos Aires to the west.

Alone in his hotel room, wearing only his jeans, Jim was sitting on the rug with his back against the side of the bed, a beer and a joint at hand, his phone near his bare feet. He tried some random chords on the Fender Silvia had given him the year before, his eyes lost on the night skyline outside his window.

She hadn't replied to his last text.

He knew she wouldn't. He didn't expect her to. He'd just wanted her to know. That was it.

His fingers moved over the strings, his voice joined them in a whisper just out of habit. Until he realized which song he was playing. He stopped, breathing deep.

That was the exact moment when he knew she wasn't there anymore.

Not that he'd lost her. She wasn't gone. This was different. He could feel it in his guts. She would never reply to his last text, or any other, because she'd made a choice: silence.

His eyes moved up to the moon out there, pointing east, and he sang to her.

I wait for days, just hoping that I'll find
Another clue so I can rewind it all.

There in the east, behind the mountains, a woman didn't answer because she knew he was telling the truth, like he'd always done. That woman, that look, that heart, now were also an absence for the first time. So he kept singing to her.

What's next when my body breaks
'Cause my heart's been dead for days
I need a little more relief than this.

He knew she loved him, just like he knew what had happened that morning hadn't changed what she felt for him. He knew her. Her feelings were far from shallow, far from fickle. They were both just the same, fire and steel. Resilient, dangerous, bending but never breaking.

This woman, this person who loved him so deeply, was gazing up at that very same moon, thinking of him. In silence.

So he lent her some words.

Break free from the life I've lived
Something's gotta give
Before I take
Another breath again.

She would never give him up, she would never give her love for him up. Just like now he knew he would never let her go.

There would be times when they would hate each other's guts, wish they had never met, dream they were able to break free from each other. In a fatalistic way his brother would call pathetic, but agree with deep inside, it was just too late for that. Pathetic would be trying to deny it.

They were not twenty anymore, not even thirty.

Time made it harder for new things and new people to reach them and really touch them. But if they did, they became a part of life. And that was their case: they already were a part of each other's life. And what was more important, a part of each other's soul.

In a way, it didn't matter if she'd chosen silence. He would always have music and words for them both. It was just a matter of adjusting to this new turn of their bond. He would make her break her silence in time. For the moment, he had to let her retreat to her corner and lick her wounds from the weekend.

While he thought and felt all that, he was still whispering the same song. The one she loved, even though it upset her so much-just like him. The one that made her eyes well. Those dark, deep, knowing blue eyes, the same color as his only in name.

And he sang to her.

Behind my eyes you'll find the truth
About this life that was given for you
But don't take it for granted, no
Don't ever let this go.

And a moment later, he found her replying through his very mouth.

Show your face, you've seen my bones.

And all he had left to say was:

I never knew it would be this hard.

**Chasing Avalanche, Break Free**