Your Giving Tree

Lying next to you in bed has always been one of the hardest things for me to do.

Listening to your heart beat through your chest and feeling the breath that goes in and out slowly through your nose while you sleep, the smell of soap still lingering on your body from when you got out the shower just moments before, the little noises you make when you begin to dream; it's the little things that only occur when we sleep that I've become so attached to.

Though, I know they're not forever. Nothing you do with me is ever forever, and that is why having you hold me at night is one of my most and least favourite things to do.

Every night that you're mine, a few hours before the sun starts to rise, I feel your arms untangle from my waist and you pulling yourself from the sheets. You're leaving me again with the hopeful knowledge that I've been asleep for ages and don't even notice that you're gone (until morning, of course), but of course I do. You think I'm a heavy sleeper, but you could not be more wrong. Even if I was actually asleep every time you left, I'd notice the warmth that keeps me so momentarily safe most nights just drift away from me.

I watch you sneak to the bathroom and get ready to leave, preparing your hair the way you only do with me when we're going somewhere special (which is not very often) so it seems as if you're just getting home from work, just like she thinks. Though, I suppose whatever girl you sneak back to during these nights is quite special since you're there with her so often instead of with me.

As you change back into the clothes you arrived here wearing, turn off the bathroom light, grab your keys and plant a light kiss on my forehead as you whisper "I'm sorry" in my ear, I only wish your words are true and hope to be as special as your true partner.

Though, tonight I've had enough.

"If you love them so much, why do you keep coming back to me?" I whisper, just before you close our my bedroom door and escape behind it. I'm not shocked to see your head twist so fast that it almost falls off, exposing your terrified face to me. I sit up and wait for your answer, and finally receive one after 2 minutes of silence and sorry faces on your part.

"... You keep me whole, Alex. They... I feel hollow without you." You whisper in return. "I need you."

"Why don't you treat me like it?"

"It's... not something I can explain right now..."

"Because you have to leave. Again."

Another moment of silence then. There are tears streaming down both our faces, but I'm sure yours are fake. Just like the rest of you.

"I-I'm... I'm sorry." You finally mumble before you exit our my room, and soon enough, our my apartment.

"So am I, Jack." I return, to no one, as I get up from bed and make my way into my living room after putting on appropriate outing clothes and fixing myself in the mirror.

The notebook I hide under the couch cushion is retrieved and I sit alone with it in my hands, running through the pages of inked love I create every night after you're gone. Tonight is different, though. Tonight, I use one of the last pages to write you a poem that you will hopefully see.

After about an hour of spilling my thoughts onto the small blank sheet of paper, I tear it from the book that now resides open on the coffee table for you to eventually find. I find some tape in the kitchen drawer, apply some to my small paper creation and tape it onto the outside of the front door, where you will easily find it. Making sure my keys are in one pocket and my phone in the other, I lock the door and check to see if the spare key I leave for you is still on top of the door frame, which it is.

I plant a kiss to two of my fingers and place them gently on my poem, hoping you'll see the pure desire in the bitter words. I leave with that, not knowing where to or for how long, but I hope that you'll miss me when you see I'm gone.

July 2, 2014 ; 4:52 AM ; Wednesday

Jack,

All the leaves on the Giving Tree have fallen;
No more shade to crawl in underneath.
I've got scars from a pocket knife
Where you carved your heart into me.

I lie in the dead of night and I wonder
Whose covers you're between.
And it's sad; while laying in her bed,
You feel hollow, so you crawl home back to me.

I see a trail that starts
A line of broken hearts behind you
That lead you back to me;
The once sad and lonely fool
With nothing left but roots to show.

If all you wanted was love,
Why would you use me up,
Cut me down, build a boat, and sail away
When all I wanted to be was your giving tree
And settle down, build a home, and make you happy?

Love,
Your Giving Tree.