A Million Miles Gone
What would you do if you woke up and I was a million miles gone?
I can’t imagine that you would ever be the one to cry over me.
It’s cold outside now. Cloudy, the sort of weather I always enjoy. The sort of weather that usually means snow. I’m standing by the window with a fresh cup of coffee steaming in my hand. It isn’t fully day yet.
I should be happy, but something inside me isn’t allowing me to enjoy this serene moment.
What would you do?
You wouldn’t cry.
If I left right now, if I just got in my car and drove away.
My mind can imagine you coming down the stairs to a cold kitchen after waking up in an empty bed. Your forehead is frowning, but your mind is still sticky with sleep.
In my mind, it dawns on you as you enter the dark kitchen, bare feet cold on the tile floor. You don’t drop into a chair, put your head in your hands, wonder what’s happened and why. No. You go to the coffee maker and scowl, realizing that I haven’t left any for you.
Then you go back to bed.