Just a Dream

The night ended on a sour note. Driving home from St. Louis, I had seen him using his phone again, while driving. Three times previously I had asked him not to use his phone while driving, that I didn't want to lose him to an accident he could have prevented if paying full attention. But he didn't listen. Maybe if I hadn't been so pushy, maybe if I hadn't been so demanding, things would have been different.
So that night when we got home, I told him I didn't want him coming down again, if he was going to continue using his phone. Did I really mean it? No. I loved him and I wished I could have spent more time with him, rather than just the barely day and half I got to spend with him each week. But I didn't want him to get hurt and I cared about his safety more than my own selfish desires.
Maybe I shouldn't have said it. Maybe if I hadn't then things would have ended up like that did. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
I went to bed alone, again. Then morning came.
Cold and bright, I turned and reached out to him. He was still sleeping, I didn't want to wake him, but I missed him. I wanted his arms around me. I wanted to hear him say he loved me and he wouldn't use his phone while driving anymore. I wanted to hear him say that I was more important than that.
Instead he slept and I suffered.
The day dragged on, I felt sad and I wasn't entirely sure why. I just knew things weren't right. Was he being quieter than normal? Was I imagining him pulling away from me? Was I being paranoid that he looked sad? He says everything was okay, but if so why couldn't I shake the cold, sad feeling in the pit of my stomach?
Later in the afternoon, we agreed to play Clue, I started the dishes while he cleaned the table off. Then I set up the game while he went to the bathroom. He was gone a long time. I finished the dishes and then went to lay down to wait.
He came in and sat on the bed next to me and that's when it happened. The world came crashing down around me. With simple words, "I've been thinking and I, uh, do want kids in the future."
Blank. Numb. Cold. At first I couldn't really comprehend the words. I mean I had made sure this wouldn't be an issue before we even started dating, hadn't I? Hadn't he said that first night he didn't want kids? I couldn't remember. I just felt cold.
Then the pain broke through. I knew what this meant. It was all over. After all this is the kind of thing that tear marriages apart, what chance did our budding relationship stand? Could I compromise? Could I be a mother one day? I knew the answer before the questions even finished forming. No, no I couldn't. So it was the end. The end of everything I had planned and hoped for.
I thought it was different this time and in fact it was. I had fallen in love for the first time and been loved in returned. That was the worse part, I had everything I always wanted, needed, and just like that it was all gone.
Have you ever been so sad, so upset, you got nauseated? Could feel your stomach revolting and your body heaving? It was awful, I couldn't throw up, but I couldn't stop myself from trembling and heaving like I was. I wanted it to stop. I could feel his arms around me, stroking my hair, whispering in my ears, "It's going to be alright" Didn't he know it wasn't alright? That everything was over? How is that alright? How is that okay? The world was ending, nothing was okay.
He was crying, too, I could hear his ragged breathing, feel the tears on my skin. But I couldn't look at him, I couldn't see the pain I was feeling mirrored in his eyes. I couldn't bear to look at the face of the man I loved and was losing. I couldn't bring myself to face him.
For a moment, I felt like I wasn't really there, like I was looking down on my body and not really feeling anything. Like it was just a dream and I would wake up and it all be fine.
I wanted that, I needed that. It had to be a dream.
It was just a dream while he packed his things, taking his body wash out of the shower, packing his clothes, xbox, everything. It was just a dream. Was I really handing him his possessions to packed and taken away? I couldn't be standing there helping him leave me, could I? It had to be a dream. The tears never really stopped, but I tried to keep it together. He didn't need to see me fall apart, it was just a dream afterall.
Then he hugged me, but I had to pull away. Did he know how that little hug ripped my heart out? Did he see me start to unravel again?
Then he carried his things out the door, it was too bright, too real. It had to be dream. It wasn't real. I stood across the room, watching him turn to look at me one last time. The sun from the open door framing him, it had to be a dream. Too bright, too real. Then he shut the door and was gone.
My cat, my sweet baby who grew to love him as much as me, went to sit by the door, waiting for him to come back, just like when I go to work and hes there waiting for me to come back. Seeing my little baby sit and watch the door, waiting, it had to be a dream. I felt the carpet under my knees and my baby meowed his way over to me, rubbing against my legs. I know he was wondering where he went. I just kept saying, "He's gone, baby. He's gone. He's not coming back."
It had to be a dream. It had to be. He couldn't leave us, right?
It wasn't a dream and he was gone. Leaving me alone. Again.