Three Cards

I fell asleep on the couch again. I felt and heard every vertebra in my back crack as I stood up, stretching my achey limbs. Maybe I had fallen asleep on the couch because Patrick was away. Or maybe it was because I couldn't stand the thought of my bed or Pat's bed, instead it was our bed. But I think mostly I was scared that I would hurt his feelings knowing that as I was falling asleep in his bed, I devised plans of how to leave him and this town.

Patrick and I had met in high school. I knew him before he was Kaner, or Little Peekaboo. I was that girl who ran track and cross-country and kept myself updated on every sport, within our high school and professionally. He was that guy who you knew played hockey, just by the looks of him. He was a cocky bastard which had slowly faded away through the years. Like any boring romance story, we had both left Buffalo to embark on our own adventures, yet somehow ended up in the same town.

After a couple dates, I realized I had feelings for him. We never talked during high school, yet we knew each other through the athletic department and such. 6 months into our relationship, he asked me to move in with him. I was a struggling adult, just out of college, living in a shitty one bedroom apartment, so how could I refuse the offer to live in a penthouse with floor to ceiling windows overlooking Chicago?

Our relationship grew and grew, and it felt like we were best friends. Patrick would always have me come to the hockey games, which I was glad to. We'd go to other football games or baseball games when he had time. We'd run together, and always indulge in a nice dinner after burning those extra calories. After big wins, we'd celebrate in bed. After hard loses, gentle kisses would make up for it. He loved me and he made sure I knew it. Every one of his teammates made sure that I knew exactly how much he loved me. Knowing that he used to be a frequent in the party scene, knowing that he was on the path to settle down scared me. I was 23, he was 25, and I was nowhere near ready to settle down.

I was scared of what my life was becoming. Patrick didn't care if I worked or had a job. He cared that I was happy and to any girl, that would seem like the ideal life. Before Patrick, I had myself convinced that I was always better off alone. I thought that I was quiet enough and shy enough and strong enough, that no guy could ever date me or want me because he would never actually know everything about me. As these thoughts drifted back into my head, I was ashamed. I never want to hurt Patrick, but I knew that I'd only hurt him more if I refused his offer of marriage.

Which was why it was best to leave now. I'd leave him a note or something, letting him know I love him. I crawled into his bed, taking in his distinctive scent. He always smelled so faintly of the locker room, it was like it was embedded into his pores. It was a smell I've learned to love. As I pulled the covers over my head, I thought of the best way to bid my farewell.

Two hours later and my suitcases were packed with everything that I owned, which wasn't much. A lot of the extra stuff I have is stuff Pat bought me.

I pulled his key off my key ring and placed it next to the clues I left him.

The first card said: Read this to know.

A note was placed next to it which read: It would only hurt us both more in the long run, so a clean easy break was best. I would hate to see you in pain so I won't see it. Know that I'll always love you, and know this is what's best for both of us, even though it doesn't seem like it now. I'm never going to forget you. Love, Reena

The second card said: Use this to blow

Next to it was a box of tissues. I knew Pat and although he would never admit it, he cried. I would catch glimpses of him crying during Marley and Me, and try to contain my laughter. He'd be crying and I'd hate to see him use the sleeve of his expensive suit to wipe his nose and tears.

The last card read: And look at this to remember I'll always love you so

Underneath the card was a picture of him and I sitting on the beach around Lake Michigan. A colorful sunset was in front of us after a long day of boating with him and some teammates came to an end. We sat on the warm sand. I sat between Patrick's legs, his arms wrapping all around me. My legs were pulled up to my chest and my chin was tilted up towards his face. I was looking up, admiring his face, and how the sunset reflected in his ocean blue eyes. It was a photo where you instantly felt the memory come flooding back to you. Looking at it gave me the feeling of being back at the lake.

My heart beat hard as it tried to overcome the pain it was trying to endure. After using one of the tissues, I slipped on the last pair of my shoes in the apartment, looked back once, and was gone.