Updated: Nov 15, 2019
Where did you go when I left? An apartment that was once a home became vacant, dim and stripped of my memory. Where did you go when you saw the void?
Sleepless nights waiting for a light to radiate on the nightstand next to my bed, to see your name on a screen with a message for me.
Another restless night, another wet pillow, another morning met with swollen eyelids. Can you measure how much you mean to a person by their response to you leaving?
I was overwhelmed with underwhelm. Like a tide that comes in high just to level out before it nears you, I was left waiting for the storm to surge, the waves to rise, the current to take me out and away with it, but it was only me standing on the shore, achingly smooth waters around me.
I thought I'd leave a trail of reckless abandonment, a fire blazing, burning, and smoldering behind me. What I imagined would be wake up call for you turned into a harsh awakening for me.
Tears streaming down crimson cheeks, breath short and stuttered, unable to speak. Wasn't that enough for you to see me? Wouldn't that have been a good time to recognize what had brought us to this place?
But you still got on the plane. You still chose to leave.
Maybe you thought I'd be waiting for you when you got home. Maybe you imagined our conversation being wiped clean. My words had never amounted to action before, why would it be any different this time?
What haunts me now, more than anything else, is how there was no fight to be won for you, no charge forward to change what broke us, no looking in the mirror and taking responsibility for the ending to our story.
You never thought this would be our ending. You believed you would write the final chapters. That's where you and I are on two different pages. That's where you and I go our separate ways.
Looking back now, I see our paths split long before I left.
I started walking in a different direction every time you chose yourself over me. I began running the nights I woke up every hour on the hour to an empty space beside me. I was miles ahead of you the morning I awoke to you not there.
How could you not see, my love, that I was already gone even before I left? How did you not know that you were the one pushing me away?
My leaving wasn't abrupt. It was slow and steady, calm and collected, unshakeable and resolute.
You just couldn't see me. I don't think you ever did.