Goodbye for now

Through Hell

I struggle to ignore the nagging feeling that something is wrong as I stare out at the pitch-black street outside the window knawing at my fingernails. I try calling Rio again, hoping this time he picks up. This morning when I found him gone I thought it wasn't unusual until I found his wallet on the table, his keys on the hook, and his car still in the driveway. He's vanished with nothing but his phone and the clothes on his back.

"Hey, I've been up all night. I think I'm just going to go to bed. So I don't know how you'll get in. Yeah, the doors'll be locked so... I don't know. Please call me back" I can't help the way my voice wavers at the end of my voicemail. I don't know if I need to be worried or angry so I've been doing my best to keep my tone and my voice neutral in my messages to him. He doesn't tell me much about his enterprise "to keep me safe" he says. I've fallen in love with a man and I don't even know his surname or if he even has a surname.

Now I lie on the couch weeks later with my belly protruding out more, my phone in my hand, holding up to my face so I'll see immediately if Rio finally calls me. Slowly my voicemails turned more and more frantic. And eventually, I couldn't leave voicemails anymore. All I got was a loud robotic female voice yelling "mailbox full" into my ears. The voicemails turned into worried texts and then angry texts.

.I miss you.

Not delivered

..I'm thinking of you.

Not delivered

...I'm lonely.

Not delivered

My thousand-yard stare is disturbed when my phone's screen lights up with a call. I frantically go to accept the call when I realize that it's just my sister calling me. I can't have my phone busy. Everyone who once seemed close to me now holds no weight to me. It's like my mind has frozen, and keeps all thoughts of Rio on loop not allowing any other thoughts in. What if Rio tries to call while I'm on the phone with her. If it's important she'll text me. I decline the call and drag myself off the couch. Forcing myself to eat for the sake of the baby. My appetite left when my future husband did.

Slowly my joined savings account with Rio drains of money. I don't move from the couch though. My swollen painful feet propped up on a couch cushion. Not when our landlord knocks on the door and slides an eviction notice under the door. Not when work calls asking for some kind of explanation from my no-calls, no-shows. Not when my sister comes knocking and certainly not when Mick comes knocking. I don't even shout out to acknowledge that I'm home. I'm not home. I'm far far away. In a land with no pain where my numbness is accepted.

My hand gently shakes when a new call from the same unknown that has been calling me for a week now. The phone almost stops ringing and I almost don't pick up as usual when my finger taps the answer button without much thought put into it. "Can you any form of documentation explaining your unexcused absences at all? Hmm, well, I'm afraid you'll find your exit packet in an email from HR, we'll no longer be able to employ you due to your conduct." My manager's nasally voice fills the room.

Loud pounding on our front door makes it look like it is about to fall apart. For a moment the pounding feels like it's coming from my head. I wouldn't be surprised, I've had a perpetual headache for a while now. "Come on, I know you're home. Just talk to me, please" my sister's voice sounds out into our home, tired and defeated. She moves along the porch coming to a stop in front of the window, tapping on it with the tip of her fingernail. The door handle rattles with her final attempt to get in before she decided to leave, going back to her own home.

I would apologize to her in a heartbeat if I could. God, I wish I could. I'm about to counter her words. Tell her that I'm more than fine to drown alone but all I can do is whisper a small, weak 'sorry" when she's long since left. My skin feels raw, open like I've been dragged down a road. Am I to blame? I wanted to get married. I wanted a baby, even though Rio was fine to wait a few more years. Maybe I didn't smile wide enough. I didn't make him happy enough. I didn't give him enough of a reason to stay.

Maybe Camilla is enough.

I hate that I'm left to swift through the debris of what we once had all alone. I resent it. Despise it. It's just me and my sadness now, fighting off landslides and hurricanes all glazed with regret. An ugly cry rips through my chest making my heart beat frantically. My frantic breaths mix with the deafening silence. I feel ready to combust.

I just wait.

Wait for a call.

Wait for a goodbye.

Pain radiates through my body. It seeps into my bones right down to my fingertips. Another strong cramp rips a hoarse scream out from my throat. I slowly drag myself out of the pool of thick, red, sludge that's getting absorbed by our mattress and dirty sheets. The sheets I haven't washed since Rio left. Not wanting to wash out his warm, rich scent. Not wanting to admit to myself that he's gone and may never come back.

I rip my clothes off and blast myself with hot water in the shower. Scrubbing the blood off of my inner thighs and willing myself not to cry. I scream out another hoarse cry as I wipe the remnants of my unborn child off of me and let it pour down the drain. Tears stream down my face as I shove the soiled linen into the washer now with fresh clothes on and a thick pad between my legs.