He Was Here

After Blake’s call, I left the front door unlocked. It was hard to convince myself that I should, but I didn’t expect to sleep. And I suppose I expected that, if I did fall asleep, I would wake with him at my side. Instead, i woke to this… note on the seat of the couch beside me.

I don’t understand why he didn’t stay. I don’t understand. But I do know that some of his clothing has been taken from the dresser, and his cologne and phone are gone from the bed-side table. He’s taking a trip. He promises to come home, and if I just keep things together on this end so he has a home to return to, all will be well. All will be well.

But I cannot leave here. I can’t go now, knowing that he might come soon, that he plans to come back eventually. I have to keep myself calm. I cannot stay locked in this apartment, mooning over thoughts of where he is and with whom. I have to return to work, pretend this is normal, pretend everything is alright.

And then he’ll come home.

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