John went out to the Tesco this afternoon. I stay in the flat, deciding to test the connection a bit and immediately regretting it as I feel that familiar pull, that tug leading me somewhere else.
I sit what's left of me at the stairs and wait for John.
As then John does come back, and he starts up the stairs and looks up at the door, and freezes.
And there, in that second, I am positive he can see me. I know it. His eyes widen, and I try to think of something to say, but the connection is gone before I get the chance.
I let the moment get away.
And the damn has broke.
John crumbles, falling to the last step as the shopping slips from his hands, and he begins to sob loudly. I run down, and try to get him to stop, I tell him that there's no reason to cry and to stop.
I am not here so I should not feel this pain that comes with watching him.
The noise must have startled Mrs. Hudson, because she hesitantly opens the door to her flat before running out and to John. She leans down and holds him, rubbing his back and murmuring to him.
I back up and into the flat. Why did John see me?
Why did John cry?
