Impatiently waiting for her to get ready,
Puffing away on my final cigarette,contemplating on whether I should talk to her.
No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to make room in my head for thoughts other than unanswerable questions.
The bedroom door opens.
She’s finally ready to go. "Smoking again?" She said with a little pout.
I smiled and said, “Yes!” in a flat tone and almost whispering.
I stood and reached out for the keys hanging on top of the light switch holding the I door open for her.
She looked at me tenderly as she brushed passed my shoulders, right before I closed the door behind us.
I didn’t know what to make of that look.
In the car, I contemplated.
A bottleneck of words in my mouth for the oh-so-many things I want to say but couldn't.
She kissed my mouth full of questions.
I suddenly feel ashamed.
Before she came home from work, I packed and left without a word.
Neither of us needed an explanation.
There was nothing left to say or save.
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