“Thank you”, she told him.
“You’re welcome”, he told her.
On any other night the discussion, or at least what strived to be one, would have ended like this. 
But it didn’t.  Maybe because there is something in an ending that makes you want to fix what you broke in the beginning.
“Would you like to go for a walk?”, and he grabbed her hand.
“Sure”, she looked away as she took her hand back.
They walked.
They didn’t talk.
They sat.
They looked straight ahead.
One of them started talking, and that’s when they realized that there was so much to say.  And still, there was so much that they couldn’t say.
She threw a rock in the water.
She was mad, she was sad, she was resigned, she was full, she was empty, she was cold, she was warm and she was everything in between.
She was just like she’d always been.  Everything and nothing.
He laughed and smiled even though he didn’t really feel like it.  She’d always been funny, that’s why he had wanted to be with her in the first place.  At the time.  A time not so long ago.  Seven months ago.  She was always just coming up with new ways to confront him, to catch him off guard.  Like the day she left him.  That was a pretty s***ty joke.  He’d never really gotten over that one.
Somehow, he’d remembered her as being much funnier. 
She’d remembered him as being taller.
He thought her hair was lighter than usual.
Had he changed his shoes?
Had she lost a few pounds?
Was that a shirt she’d never seen?  He had never wanted her to go shopping with him.  Did he allow her to?  The her they both wouldn’t talk about.
He thought that she was prettier when she wore her hair down.
Once again the unspoken seemed to be plugged into enormous speakers that echoed in their ears and into the hollow of their stomachs.
“I’m sorry”, she said, suddenly looking at him.
She didn’t say why.  He already knew.
He nodded.
“Do you understand better now?” she asked, throwing a rock into the lake.
He nodded.

She’ll never know if he really does.
What a midnight walk.  Except that they barely walked and that it was barely eight o’clock. 
But she would have just stayed there with him until midnight had rung, reminding her that things were still the same.  That they were still the same.  And that that the loneliness and aching in her chest wasn’t his to fill.  It had never been.
But he got up and offered her his hand.
And she got up without taking hold of the hand he’d offered her.
Because she wanted to show him that she was able to stand on her own two feet by herself now.
And as she stood tall before him, he smiled.
Because he knew.
And she smiled back because she knew.
That they’d loved each other once and that that was something worth remembering.
Their relationship ended just the way it had started.
With a smile.