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"I guess I'm not quite understanding... So yesterday it was 'see you tomorrow', and today it's 'see you when I see you'?" I press my phone between my shoulder and ear to hold it steady while I remove the lasagna from the oven.

"Babe... I have to fly to Japan tonight to accept an award. None of us thought we'd win, but we did, so we have to go."

"When should I expect you home, your highness?"

I hear a long sigh on the other end of the phone, "Annie, I don't feel like doing this right now."

My blood boils, and I toss the glass pan into the sink. It shatters against the side, sauce and glass flying everywhere. "Well, I'm so sorry that me wanting you home is such an inconvenience. I cooked dinner for you, from scratch, but I'm sorry you don't feel like doing this right now."

"Annie... Please. This isn't like every other time. I'm not putting work ahead of you. I don't have a choice in the matter. If I don't show up, people will think I'm leaving the band and drama will ensue."

My fingernails dig into my palm, "So seeing your girlfriend isn't worth a little bit of drama? That's what you're telling me..."

Silence.

More silence.

The silence goes on for so long that I'm beginning to think he hung up. With frustration and anxiety jabbing at my core, I walk over to the wine fridge and pull out a sweet red, popping the cork and taking four big gulps. As the liquid hits my empty belly, it warms my face and the anxiety-induced-nausea I was feeling subsides. So I take three more swigs from the bottle.

"Do you drink to deal with all of your problems or just me?" Harry's voice coming suddenly through the receiver pulls me back to reality, mid-chug. I ignore him and down the rest of the bottle, my stomach feeling full.

I toss the empty glass into our recycling bin, moving to the jar on the counter that houses our used corks and dropping it in, then head back to the wine fridge for more refreshments. I'm halfway through the next bottle before I realize I'd decided to chug it's contents.

At this point I've nearly forgotten Harry is still on the phone, but am reminded when there's loud laughter and shuffling noises invading my left ear. I move the phone away from my face and glare at it. The temptation to hang up, to drink the rest of this bottle and pretend that I'm not crushed by the delay in Harry's presence, is overwhelming. I'm just about to do so when his soft voice comes through.

"Please, babe. Talk to me."

"I don't know what to say."

"I promised things would be different and they have been. Just because today sucks doesn't mean that all of the hard work we've been putting in is for nothing. I wish more than anything I was with you right now, and I will be. Very soon."

My eyes moisten with unshed tears, "It's always 'soon'. It's always 'tomorrow'. It's never now. It's never when I need you. It's when it's convenient for you. And I'm tired of fighting for something that isn't benefiting me or meeting my needs."

"Wow..." I hear him huff, "So one set-back and I'm useless to you? I don't benefit your life? If that's the case, if this is going to be how you react every time I can't come home immediately or have to rearrange plans, then we should end this. I'm obviously not enough for you, I-

"Harry, it's not like that. I'm just-

"You're just what? I'm doing my best and I'm trying, harder than I ever have, and it's not enough for you... Is it?"

I open my mouth to tell him he's wrong, but I can't fight the anxiety building within me that's screaming: He wants out. So I say nothing. If he wants to leave me, I'm going to let him.

"Do you even love me anymore? Do you want this?"

"Seems like you want an out, Harry. So take it."

There's several minutes of silence, followed by a shaky exhale of air and a sniffle.

Then, "Yeah, okay." And the line clicks.

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It's been like 2.5 years? Hi. I'm alive. Are you? Let's talk. Xoxo