"I'm moving."

The announcement came casually, as if the speaker didn't know that the words would cause my heart to stop, would freeze the world in a moment of time.

"What!" I cried ears ringing.

"In March, to San Diego."

"God, why?" I tried desperately to get my mind to stop spinning, to ignore the feeling of my world crashing around me.

"You know I never meant to stay in this town. I've been talking about moving the entire time I've know you, don't act surprised."

"You've been talking about moving for two years, I didn't expect you to do anything but make plans." My voice sounds cold, harsh. My heart is pounding so hard and fast I don't know why my blood isn't warming up my vocal cords.

"I've already talked to my job and there's a position opening in the San Diego facility that I've already put an application in for." There you go again, leaving all emotion out of your voice, sounding as rational as you please.

"What if you don't get the job?" I ask, trying not to sound excited at the prospect.

"I think I'll get it, and if not that position there will be other openings at the same facility or I can always get another job. I've got enough set aside that I can survive for a couple of months while I look." How can you sound so calm about this? You must know my soul is shredding to pieces.

"What about your life here?" What about me!

"I'm ready to move on. Come now, you didn't honestly expect me to stay did you? I don't even know why I've stayed here this long."

"I thought you might stay because you found yourself in a loving, committed relationship," the words shot out of my mouth like bullets. React damn you.

"You know I love you, but I can't stay in this town the rest of my life."

"I can't leave here. My roots, my family!"

"I'm not asking you to leave your family. I know what they mean to you."

"So you just came down here to calmly say that you were leaving me? Why don't you just out and say it, that you're dumping me."

"I'm not dumping you."

"Then what are you doing?" My voice keeps spiraling higher, out of control.

"I'm not dumping you yet. I want to spend the rest of the time I'm here with you, and you are welcome to join me, I would love for you to come with me, but I know better than to ask you to leave here."

"You want me to stay with you with this hanging over my head like a death sentence?!"

"Don't be so dramatic. It'll hurt, but we can still have each other for a little while longer." So calm, so logical, this is how you must sound at your board meetings. Your voice tries to sooth me, but I want to spew my fury, I want you to feel the pain that's inside of me.

"Fuck you! How can you do this? Why would you tell me that you love me when you can so casually walk away? Did you ever fucking care?"

"I do love you, but I can't stay here. This place, I just can't. You knew I was planning on leaving when we started dating. Let's just take what time we can."

I watch you struggle to articulate why you can't stay here but I don't feel any sympathy. My arms shake with tension of unshed tears and the fierce desire to slam my fists into your flesh. Its an effort to not ball my hands into those fists, I'm afraid that if I do I wont be able to stop them from their target.

Your steady voice, almost emotionless serves to heighten my anger. Don't you care? Don't you need me too? Were all those whispers you fed me at night lies?

"Babe, don't cry," you reach out and put your hand high on my arm. I slap it away turning my body at an angle, hunching my shoulders.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" I shriek.

"Please, just calm down and we'll discuss this. Don't ruin things."

"Don't ruin things?! Don't ruin things?! Where the fuck do you get off saying don't ruin things? You are the one choosing to leave. You are the one who said you loved me." My words come between harsh sobs as I lose the fight with my tears. Why aren't I good enough for you to stay? Why can't you love me?

"You're the one choosing to stay."

With that you walk away, leaving my room, leaving my house, leaving my life. I throw myself onto my bed and give vent to a wordless scream, not caring if the neighbors can hear me.

- Weeks later -

I want to write words that will reach out and wrap around your soul. I want to write words that will send shivers up and down your spine. I want you to treasure my words, reading them over and over smoothing out the folds and creases of the page, despairing as the ink starts to fade. I want to write something that will last throughout the ages, etched on your heart.

But I stare at this blank page and I can't think of the words to write, or to say, that will keep you here with me. Tears slip out from beneath my eyes and land on the page blurring the blue lines that march across it. Finally I sigh and scribe three words onto that page and slip it into an envelope I addressed and stamped days ago.

- A letter received -

I got a letter in the mail today. I know that handwriting. The letter sits on my desk propped up on the computer screen as I stare at it, demanding it release its secrets but terrified to open it. I pick up the envelope and it hardly has any weight to it; my fingers caress its slim smoothness, dancing over my name, tracing the return address.
I set it back down, my internal debate continuing. Do I want to know what it says? Could there be anything left to say after we last parted?

With a sigh I toss the white envelope in the small trash can and leave the room.