I Almost Do

2

I bet you think I either moved on or hate you
Because each time you reach out, there's no reply
I bet, it never occurred to you, that I can't say hello to you
And risk another goodbye

There was a point after our breakup where it seemed like we were in a dance. It took me a while to completely move my things out of the downtown apartment we shared. I expected that it would be easy enough for me to pack up and move during the day since he left for the office by 7:30am and would rarely be home before 9:00pm. So, the week after we broke up, I immediately filed for two days of leave from my job, expecting that it would be more than enough time for me to get my things together. What I didn't expect was that he would be there.

As soon as I opened the apartment door, I was greeted by the smell of freshly brewed coffee. When I set my things down by the couch, I found him in the kitchen staring expectantly at me, standing behind the kitchen counter with two places set on the breakfast bar. There was a full spread of breakfast that I assumed he had cooked.

I stood there for a while, unsure of what to do. I contemplated having a cup with him as it seemed harmless; but I thought better of it and decided to turn away towards the bedroom. I pulled out my larger suitcases and started packing the clothes I had there. He must have followed me to the bedroom after I turned away from him. He sat on the edge of the bed, right beside my open suitcase, trying to catch my eye.

"So that's it? We aren't going to talk to each other anymore?" he said after he'd had enough of my silence.

"I just want to get my things out of here and be out of your hair as soon as possible." I answered, grabbing armfuls of clothes so I would finish sooner.

"No one's asking you to move out." he said quietly, his gaze intent on me, gauging my reaction.

I stilled, keeping my gaze focused on my hands instead of at him. I knew that if I stayed, he would make promises such as "I'll be home early" or "I promise to call when I won't make it". It would last all of a couple of weeks before he would know I had settled back into our dynamic and he'd stop again. Quite frankly, I was tired of it. Absolutely tired.

"I'm doing this for myself." I told him, shaking my head to clear the thoughts of all the possibilities "I can't keep living in this place, and I can't keep living like that."

He sat there in silence for a while before letting out a heavy breath, standing up, and finally leaving.

I hung my head, and before I knew it, silent sobs started wracking through me. I didn't know how to stop them, they just kept coming as I took more of my things from the spacious closet and stuffing them hurriedly into my bags, my vision kept blurry by tears.

I didn't notice when he re-entered the room. He moved behind me and snaked his hands down my arms until they covered my hands then held on tightly, forcing me to stop.

"You don't have to leave... Please, baby, don't leave." he whispered into my hair. "You know we can make this work." He loosened his grip on my hands and gently spun me around so that he could pull me into his chest. It only made me sob harder because I knew that with just one word from me, this wouldn't have to change. We could make it work.

"I can't," I whispered, my voice slightly muffled by his shirt. I could feel him stiffen up in front of me. I took that opportunity to pull away and wipe away the tears left on my face.

He turned around and started pacing in front of the bed. "Honestly, I have no idea what else you want. I've tried to give you everything. Clearly, that wasn't enough."

"You know that was never the problem."

"Then what was?" his voice began to rise. "That I worked my ass off to make sure we could settle down comfortably? I've been doing everything to make sure we wouldn't have to worry about anything financially, and so that you could finally quit your job, and we can finally start a family." his voice cracked saying the last word

I started shaking my head, "That was never what we wanted, you know that."

His gaze hardened, "I don't think you understand how much pressure I've been under since my brother stepped down."

"And I don't think you realize how much of that pressure is just you talking yourself down." I whispered, reaching up to place my hands on his cheeks. "You've always been enough, I don't care if we lived in a small bungalow, or a run-down apartment, or this fortress," I gestured to the wide expanse of the apartment. "I never asked for any of this."

His stare was so cold I could feel a shiver down my spine. I quickly took back what I said, "Not that I don't appreciate what you've been doing. You know I do... I just want you to know that this wasn't what we wanted. Over the years you've just been working towards what you wanted. It's not a bad thing, but I wished you'd realize that there was so much you're losing."

He stood there, not speaking, his eyes still trained on me. I stared back, unsure whether he felt the weight of my words or if he merely found them to be immaterial. Finally, the silence was too much to bear.

"I can't do this... I'll have someone pack up the rest of my things instead." I moved to zip the bag I had already filled and laid it on the floor. I pulled up the handle, and began to walk past him when his hand reached out to grab my wrist.

"Wait. Don't go, please." he tugged on my hand slightly to get me to look at him. "We can still make this work. Please."

I pried my wrist from his grasp, and without glancing back, I walked out of what had been my home.