I'm Not Saying Goodbye

The sunshine slipped through my shades and taunted me. I rolled over, holding my breath. The bed was empty except for me. I sighed and kept my eyes closed. Why had I expected anything else?

This was custom. This was just how things happened.

I couldn’t believe I’d let myself fall prey again. It always happened when I pulled the box out before he left. It made me remember the good times, instead of the bad. I’d done this to myself, as always.

I sat up and leaned against my headboard. My head ached a bit from all the crying I’d done already and my stomach growled lightly. I sighed and glanced over to the nightstand. It was the usual spot he left his note, though sometimes he went for the fridge or the bathroom mirror. Once I even had a post-it note on my forehead.

This was no different. There was the ripped piece of notebook paper with his messy handwriting on it. He’d used a pen this time, I observed. The word blurred together as tears pooled together in my eyes.

I forced myself to pick the paper up and hold it closer so I could read it. I needed to rip this off like a band-aid so I could recover. I had to get off to the next city, the next one-night, and then do it all over again.

My eyebrows rose slowly and a smile crept on my mouth as I read the words. I was crying again.

This isn’t goodbye, I swear.
I went to get breakfast. Nick
ps – I love you Gracie Ann,
don’t forget that. Xoox