Creak says the door to our bedroom, despite my efforts to open it silently. And following that grinding sound comes a loud yawn from the bed.
“Where are you going?” asks the love of my life, in a worried, almost desperate tone. At hearing the sadness in her voice, I wince. Oh, how I want to crawl down beside her once more, comforting her and promising that I will stay by her side forevermore. And it is for that very reason that I don’t reply, but instead, I throw the door wide open and move into the hallway.
“Please, just look at me, tell me what’s going on.” So she says, and trust me when I say I want nothing more but to look, to see her one more time, and that is why I can’t allow myself to turn round. So instead, I clench my fists hard in my pockets, nails burrowing deep into tender skin. Seeking pain, for I deserve it. Seeking distraction, for otherwise, I will surely betray my cause.
With firm steps, I walk down towards the next door, which will lead me outside. And, more importantly, away from her. However, as I clench my fingers around the door handle, I hear a sobbing and wailing sound from behind. My heart turns on itself, intent turning into doubt. Oh god, is she crying? Does it pain her so that I leave?
Something within tells me to console her, tells me to end things fairly rather than running away. Alas, I turn around, betraying my cause.
And there she is, the most wonderful of beings. Newly awoken, hair plastered on her tear-stained face, and yet, she is so beautiful. Beautiful, but sad. She seems so very deep in sorrow and my eyes water at knowing I am the cause.
I fight fiercely against the heavy lump in my chest, and at last, I get the words out. “I have to go, my dear, and never come back. Understand that I love you from the innermost depths of my being — this is why I leave. Because I am in danger, people are out to get me, and I might soon be dead. Should harm befall you, my love… no, I can’t even think of it; it’s too painful. But listen here, I will cherish the memories of our time spent together till the very end. So, please, do the same. And, do not ask me to stay because I will. Because I can’t say no to you.”
She closes in on me during this speech of sorrow, clasping her arms around the width of my slumped back. And into my ear, she whispers, “Stay.”
Benjamin Bratz 