I asked him to leave.
He's still here. Fixing things around the house. Pressed against me as I sleep.
Me, with a glass of red in hand, wandering between rooms, baking cookies because it's fall, it's Thanksgiving, we have to wait until Thanksgiving is over, then he will leave.
It's not official. We haven't officially decided to break up. I don't want to break up. I don't think he does either. But I don't really know, now do I?
He keeps staying out until dawn. Not telling me what's going on. Shutting himself off from me. Hurting me in ways I didn't know possible. He's pushed me to the edge and I've had enough. I told him to go. He wants to stay gone all the time, then go.
I can't decide if this is the end or just the beginning of the end.
No comments:
Post a Comment