It's that time again. He stands up to leave, but you cling to his arm, asking for ten more minutes.
"Please? Just a bit longer-"
He laughs, shakes his head and whines back, "I want to get home, Baby. I'll see you tomorrow."
His hand reaches up to brush your hair back and he leans forward to kiss your forehead. He begins walking, so you hold his hand after jumping up from the futon you keep in the spare bedroom with all your movies.
He gets to the door and turns around to kiss you goodbye. You tilt your head to reach up due to his height compared to you to meet him in the middle with a short-lived kiss.
"I'll text you when I'm home, I love you," he says as he opens the door to leave.
"I love you too!" You say while the door closes behind him.
The lonely thoughts begin to set in as you watch him walk out to his car. Why couldn't you just be happy he spent time with you today? Shouldn't that mean something to you? I mean, of course it does, but you need more. You always have needed more.
You slump your way back to your spare bedroom after you watch him pull out of the driveway and speed off down the road towards his house. Your phone was left in the bedroom in the rush of him leaving, and you were awaiting his text, so you grab it off the bedside table, unlocking it once it's in your grasp.
It always seemingly takes a while for him to get home because of the anticipation of his text, but this time felt especially long.
The dark thoughts had set in.
'He doesn't love me. If he loved me, he would have stayed. Why would he stay with me? I'm not that special to him anyways...'
'Do you want to call me?' It reads, in beautiful, heavenly black letters.
You smile and the once darkened mind you had had lit up once again.
'Ofc!!!' You typed out, anticipating his call.
It's funny how he only loves you when he's paying attention to you.
