The End Of Us

"My heart swings back and forth between the need for routine and the urge to run," he says, his gaze a million miles away in another city, another state, another country, another continent or maybe another universe all together.

I sigh before asking, "You're leaving again, aren't you?"

He shifts in his seat, his fingers curling around the hot mug he holds. "I'll be back."

I shake my head, looking down into my cup of dark coffee. "I can't keep waiting on you, only existing when you come home-" but I would. We both knew I would.

"I've never asked you to wait," he replies, standing up to refill his coffee.

The kitchen is silent except for the soft sounds he makes.

"You never had too," I mumble . . .

1/3 Parts