Thursday, December 13, 2007

An Hour's Notice

He's gone. 5 days ago (that long? where have I been...?). Saturday, we go for breakfast, the usual stop at Home Depot for yet another thing to fix the aging house. Back home, me with some energy, get things sorted. I ask him in passing, "Do you want to talk?" He says with a sheepish smile, my flight leaves from Vancouver tonight. TONIGHT!! But you haven't packed or made plans or said goodbye or anything..... I have all I need. What do I do with everything. Whatever you want. What about money. Taken care of. Staying with friends. What's her name? Is it her? He doesn't answer, just berates me for asking questions. I find an envelope in his computer bag, stack of hundred dollar bills, over 7 K in all. I tell him, he tells me being so clever is sometimes not such a good thing. And I know he hates me, hates his mother, who he has turned me into. And I cry. I howl like an animal. I apologize, tell him I love him, beg him to remember this. Beg him to call me if he is ever alone, in trouble. Hug and kiss him and love him as much as I can as he goes to the door. The cab is here. Your time is up he says. I stand at the window with my hand over my mouth, howling like an animal. Buckle at the knees, crawl around the empty house. He's gone. For good. I still love him, more than I love myself.