Craving Him

It is getting to be early morning. Sitting here, the silence surrounding me, I hear the door. I move to get out of bed. No, I shouldn’t go to him. I should wait until he comes here, wait until he is ready to see me and talk about it.

I move back onto the bed, sitting, waiting.

The bedroom door swings open, hitting the wall with a thud, and he slams it closed, kneeling at the side of the bed next to me like he is surrendering to me. I move to the edge of the bed, and his head drops onto my lap.

I have no idea what has happened or what to say. My body has frozen. My mind is unable to talk yet. My hand is resting on his head, waiting ‘til I can find any words to say.

“What happened?” The silence finally breaks from my words. I hate that I put him through so much pain in just a few short years. He would not have had any issues if he never met me.

“Nothing. By the time I got there, I had calmed down. Sorry for storming out. I didn’t want to fight with you.”

It makes no sense. Why would he