It hurts that I’m left to make this decision but we both know that neither of us can continue on living this way. We both know that we've failed to work our shit out and with every minute wasted of me waiting, only makes it worse and your resistance to everything, doesn't help either. I gave you my heart along with everything else I had and it never seemed to be enough but...
There will always be a part of me that loves you.
I crumple her note in one hand and throw it with all my might against the wall. Angry and frustrated with what she has done, after promising to me that she wouldn’t make any rash decisions while I was gone on the road. She looked me straight in the eye, with a straight face and I believed her.
I take in a couple of deep breathes trying to calm myself but it doesn’t work as the anger continues to rise. I begin to rustle around through my small living room now in hopes of finding myself just one cigarette, at the very least.
It's a habit I knew she hated with every fibre of her being, but it was something I couldn’t give up cold turkey. Whenever I was under stress or out drinking I always lit one up. I guess it started to become me needing a cigarette, or few, every day now. That couldn't be the only reason why she left, though, there has to be more than that.
After taking another quick scan over the room and another walk around the whole perimeter, I couldn't find even find just that one cigarette I wanted. Which right now, I really feel I need. With the anger of her broken promise and the frustration of not finding my cigarettes combining together, I throw my weight down onto the middle of the couch, throw my head back and shut my eyes.
How could she do that to me too? That just goes far beyond hatred for me.
But as bring my head back up, putting my head in one hand, I slowly open my eyes and see a carton of Canadian Classic Silver, in the middle of the coffee table, right in front of me. How could have I missed that?
I cautiously reach out for it and that's when a flash of stills of her and I run through my head. The stills of her pleading to me, of her trying to get me to, at the very least, work on quitting. Then there was me making excuses about not smoking all the time and that it's not an addiction.
As this memory passes now, I can't resist any longer, and I reach for the carton of cigarettes. And then there laid another note, folded in half with Carey written on the front of it. I could tell that it was her writing and I could see that she must have been mad when she wrote it, since I noticed the deep indents of the ink on the paper. It looks as though she almost tore through the paper writing it. Now having a bad feeling of it being one last stab at me for giving in. I pick it up and read it anyways.
This was the one thing I ever asked of you.
And you never even tried to quit!
I knew you couldn't resist.
So, go ahead, light up another one!
I give up. You don't want to listen to me.
So I'm tired of trying.
This time when I'm done reading it, I folded the note back in half the way it was and placed it back on the coffee table and placed the carton of cigarettes beside the note. Suddenly, I don't feel the need for it anymore.
I get up from the couch and begin to wander through the apartment. First through the kitchen, because it's right off from the living room. Everything is so organized and clean. All because of her. Next, to the bathroom, just as clean and organized as the kitchen, but I found nothing of hers. No shampoos, no soaps, no creams, no lotions, nor candles, nothing. Now the bedroom. The bed is made, the floor is clean of towels and clothing, and the closet is nearly empty. Again, I see that nothing of hers is left. There was nothing left of her but a framed picture of the two of us that sits on the night stand on my side of the bed. I sit myself down on the edge of the bed, pick up the picture and just stared at it.
I remember that day this picture was taken. On the trip to Florida we took last summer with a few friends. They wanted to get a picture of us together, but she always hated getting her picture taken, so it never happened. That was until one day after a couple of drinks, having a good time; I noticed that our friends began to snap pictures. So I got in there and put a kiss on her cheek, as she was grinning from ear to ear. They managed to get that shot and I've got to say that it's the best picture of her.
It felt as though everything in our lives then seemed so simple. We didn't have any cares; we just lived in the moment. It was a great trip. If fact, I secretly booked tickets, just before this road trip, to go back there for her birthday this summer. So much for a big birthday surprise now.
Now that I put the picture back on the night stand, I lay myself back onto the bed.
I sure as hell never thought I ever feel this way, but all the time that we spent together, all the things that we shared; I guess a change in feelings was inevitable. I love her. I changed my ways when we moved in together. I was only committed to her.
What has this girl done to me?