I hold my breath. My hand rests on back of your neck as you rest your forehead in my collarbone. We lay still in the silence that becomes us. I feel your fingers tighten around a tangled grip on my shirt. Your voice seeps into my ears in a small whisper. "Don't go." My heart tightens more than your grip on my shirt. My mind plays out the choices I have. I lean towards thoughts of reckless abandon, and want nothing more than to stay where I am. Your eyes are pleading. I am weak. But I find myself bound to routine and family obligation. And only know how to run away to the things of which I am certain. I leave the comfort of your arms.
I linger near. I fumble with the buttons of my vest and the things I pack away, for the slight seconds that they keep me with you. I neglect time and the ringing of my cell phone to hear the words you speak; blunt, painful, and heavy, but honest and thought through. My eyes are lowered.
You lead me out. Slipping down the stairs and out into a misty breeze. Our words are few. I turn the keys. I back out of the parking spot. I turn to look. Your jaw is stern and set with frustration. I wave goodbye. You do the same. I shift into drive.
I took the blame and faded away.
...I was trying my hardest not to cry.
~ Adieu.
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