I was torn, completely torn. I was so happy that he was back. Days were long and nights were cold without him beside me. It was always a joyful occasion when he'd appear by my side without notice. He would warm my heart and body with his mere presence.

But I could never fully enjoy his company. I was always fearful of when he would leave again. Most times he left just as quietly as he came. I understood, to some extent. He is never going to be one to settle down. He gets so antsy staying too long in one place. He needs a change of horizon frequently. It makes him who he is… An enigma, even to me, who knows him better than anyone.

This ongoing battle between fear and happiness was wearing me out. Having him be my reason for living while I was just someone he could stay with while passing through was making me weary. Was it ever going to change?

I watched his sleeping form, sleep was the last thing on my mind. My heart overflowed with love for him. I touched his smooth pale face, he didn't stir, too far gone in his alcoholic coma. I scooted closer to him, soaking up his warmth. I wondered, if he knew how many tears I cried over him, would he stay? Even if he would, I wouldn't tell him. I didn't want him to stay because he pitied me but because he loved me.

I did know, for a solid fact, that he loved me. Why else did he always come back? Why else would he tell me every detail of his life, even the parts that no one else knew and were painful to re-live? Why else would I catch him staring at me as if there was no one else in the world?

He slept until the sun was high in the sky, and I stayed close, admiring everything about him and making sure he was still breathing. When he awoke, he folded me into his warm embrace and I temporarily forgot all of my fears of him leaving. His lips all over my scorching skin was all that occupied my mind. His hands that were so talented patched my aching, bleeding heart, and his deep smooth voice filled my empty soul.

It had been one week since he had been back and every morning or afternoon when he became conscious again he healed me. We spent hours discussing life while we were apart, drinking, laughing and loving, never getting enough. At night before he passed out he completed the healing over and over, only to have it utterly ruined when he was sleeping.

I knew it would be the last time we were together for a long time. He did everything differently. He took his time, was gentle and looked into my eyes more often, spoke his love more frequently, and held me longer, stroking my hair when it was over.

Soon he would pack his things and walk out of my life one more time. The thought brought tears to my eyes. I usually waited until he was gone before I let my sorrow pour out through my eyes, but I couldn't hold them back this time.

He didn't ask me what was wrong, he already knew the answer. He just held me tighter and let me cry onto his bare chest. He sang to me quietly while I flooded our bed and when I was done he pulled back and looked into my eyes with so much intensity that I was struck into stillness, barely able to breathe.

"I will always come back for you. You know that, right? I will always come back… For you."

All I could do was nod. I knew, but it didn't lessen the pain.

He laid with me wrapped in him for hours after he spoke those words. Nothing more was said, we just soaked each other up. Thoughts of this later would warm me when he had gone, yet make me feel emptier.

Unwillingly, my eyes got heavy and my body got weak from exhaustion. I forced myself to move, to touch and kiss all of him and he responded with the same vigor as I did. When our love making was over I fell into a deep sleep with the feel of his body close and his arms shielding me from the rest of the world.

When I awoke… He was gone. Next to me was a scribbled note with three words:

I love you.

Tears filled up my eyes as I set the paper back down. I noticed more on the opposite side. I flipped the paper and read:

I miss you when I'm gone.

That was what I needed to know. He never told me that, but now that I had it in writing, I could go on, no matter how long he was away.

Just a short one shot. I found this in a notebook that I had about a year ago and really liked it. It's really short, but I think it's one of my writings that I like the most. I might expand from it, maybe do one from his point of view… I'm not sure. Tell me if you want me to do that. If I get enough positive replies from it, I might. Thank you.