We met up in town and went out for the evening. A little bit drunk, chasing the cafe
s and bar
s into the wee hours
. One place to the next as each one closed, til finally we came to the last cafe of the night. When that placed closed she came back to mine.
In the morning I had to get up to go to work, she was tired and wanted to sleep a little. After my coffee and shower routine I went back into the bedroom. I moved her hair up over the pillow and kissed her neck a little. An arm came up round me. I gently moved the arm from around my back and with one last kiss on the forehead I left the room, her eyes still closed.
I left a note in the kitchen
"Give me a phone before you leave for work
Here's some change for a taxi if you need to get one."
I dropped some change on the table and made my way to work. It was a terrible, hungover day. On the way back, walking through the park, I thought about her lying in that bed as I left that morning. I wished she would still be there, waiting. I felt so tired and shaky, snuggling back up in bed beside her would feel so good, so right. There wasn't much chance though, she would have to have gone to work. But I still day-dreamed about it as I approached the building.
Opening the door I went into the bedroom first, just in case. The bed was empty, the bedroom tidied. I walked through to the kitchen, it had been tidied too. The note was still sitting at the table as was the change. She had written something on the bottom of the note, I sat down to read it.
"I don't want to see you again, this whole thing is impossible. I'm sorry. Please don't try and make this any harder than it is."
I picked up the pen
"If that's how you feel then Ok, I suppose. I'm sorry too."
Later, still sitting in the kitchen, staring at that note. Whiskey and cigarette in hand, cursing myself for doing in writing the same thing I did in that situation every time. A thousand things to say, "Ifs", "buts", "sorry", "can't we", "why". I just sat and stared, tried to accept. I couldn't manage to get angry with her, even on paper.