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Closing the door softly behind me—my paced quickened, resisting the urge to turn and look, to see him—was he there? Was he watching me? I didn’t dare take that glance, don’t think I’d be able to stop running if he was. Going was hard, but I knew that staying would be worse, for him, for me (so what if I was being a little selfish, that’s the world right—right? Selfish, no one is so self-sacrificing—there are no altruistic acts, everything is based off of what another person can get out of it, right? The voice in my head begins to weaken, my thoughtless (not to mention useless) rant coming to a sudden stop as I looked back and saw—nothing, not the twitch of a curtain being quickly righted, not the door opening as he ran to try to stop me from leaving, not even his face in the window, head down toward the floor, knowing he couldn’t stop me. That stopped me—son of a bitch! He didn’t care if I left did he? Prefer it would he? Fine! Marching back to the door I flung it wide open admitting a shaft of morning sunlight on his still sleeping form, huffing, I moved about, taking off my clothes, putting my suitcase back to where it had been before I had gotten the silly (ridiculous really) notion in my head to leave him—it was clear he needed me more than he let on. Shucking my pants off by the bed I crawled back under the covers, wrapping my body around his warm one—snuggling in for the long haul, feeling him seek the warmth of my body, me doing the same with him.
Did she always have to be so god damned stubborn? Rhetorical question, of course she did. First she would insist on leaving and then it was all she could do to stay. But no matter what, it was utterly impossible to change that girl’s mind. If she was leaving then she was leaving; if she was staying, she was staying. Stubborn as a god-dammed mule; immovable as a freaking mountain but her follow through was shit, and thank god for that; and I felt her, as she lay back down next to me, coming into my warmth in the cold room the way a moth is drawn to a flame. Maybe one day she would leave, walk out the door and keep walking but I knew she was a selfish little thing and she liked me, wanted me in a way that defied all her reasoning’s, mine too sometimes and so she stayed, climbed back into the bed as I curled into her, seeking her warmth as she did mine.