this morning #969.

this morning, though i’d asked him to wake me up before he left, when i stepped out of my room just after eight, i stepped out into an empty living room. empty couch. blanket & sheets folded neatly in the corner. a handwritten note. he’d done it again. i dropped down on the couch. wanted to cry. this time, i didn’t. picked up the note, his apology letter for leaving without as much as a goodbye. he used some folksy quote about how friends never say goodbye but totally took the quote out of context & then backed up the quote with a couple reasons why this was so. why i didn’t have to worry. we’d see each other soon. i knew that we wouldn’t. now i wanted to cry but i couldn’t.