A Book I'm Going to Write

It's like slipping silently to sleep, sinking breathlessly into water, tiptoeing slowly through the threshold of an open door.
It's like flipping a light switch or pouring another glass of wine, mindless.
There are no fireworks to accompany you, no slamming of doors, no throwing of chic pink drinks in martini glasses, no slashing of Audi tires, no egging of houses.
It is just you and the single known fact that this is not your path to happiness, that he was not, is not, and never will be worth your time.
It is you repeating 'no' in your head for the millionth time.
"What if I see him again" No.
"What if he's with her now" No.
"What if we are meant to be" No.

The truth it would be far easier to stay. To let it consume you, to drown in it.
To convince yourself it will be okay. That this time is really the last time. That things are going to change. That he cares about you.
But- lets be real he doesn't give a damn about you or your feelings or your hopes or the fact that you're drowning. He's not about to save you.
There is no drama or shattering of glass or life altering revelations- you've known it all along.