i feel horrible.
2011-04-15 | 7:24 p.m.
"will you at least let me know when you get home, so i don't have to worry about you?" you say.
i nod. my eyes start watering. "will you give me a hug?"
you hesitate. it feels like forever before you answer.
"well, are you going to put your bags down or not?" you say, and your voice is tight, you're about to cry.
i throw them down and you stand up and i throw my arms around you, the same way i always have except fiercer, maybe. stronger. i bury my head into your chest and the tears start falling.
"please don't hate me," i manage to squeeze out.
"i couldn't do that," you say, "even though i want to. i want to tell you you're stupid, and that you'll change your mind, but i don't think it's going to happen."
i cry harder.
when we are about to pull away, you look at the tv, and say, "look, richie rich is on tv," and you lower your lips to my face and you kiss me, the same as our first kiss.
i pick up my bags and run out the door and bawl while sitting in my car, as you stare at me through the window.