and we ended up here

              

                She wasn’t surprised they had ended up here.

The distance used to keep her up at night. She’d go over and over in her head where he was, no, who he was with, always imagining the worse. There was one girl, pretty. Prettier than her. Petite, she was tomboyish in that beautiful way that tormented girls because they wanted to be her friend but at the same time they were insanely jealous of the way every man flocked to her. He’d go to the bar every Thursday night to see her and insisted a little too adamantly that he didn’t find her attractive. “Kate?!” he’d say, a twisted grimace hiding behind his beard. “No way.” They exchanged mysterious text message that didn’t say much but reeked of hidden meaning. She knew he understood what they meant even though she couldn’t. He captured her essence in a jar and kept it on a shelf in the kitchen and he’d laugh about it with his friends but never explained to her what it meant. She was grateful.

She opened the jar of melatonin, shaking three into her hand before swallowing them. You were supposed to take two but that was never enough. The chocolate coconut water wasn’t cold enough and it left a rotten aftertaste in her mouth. Or maybe it was because she had just brushed her teeth. He wasn’t home again and it was time for bed.  

This addiction to sleep aids was unfortunate but it was the lesser of two evils. At least she wasn’t a walking zombie during the day. Every night she tried to go to sleep without them but it was impossible. If she had to use something she figured melatonin was the healthiest solution. Benadryl, safe in the short-term, caused long-term memory loss if used on a regular basis and everything else was too addictive.

                She woke up the next morning, still alone. The cat was crouched on a pillow above her head, purring to herself. With a dainty meow the cat arched her back, lifted her tail above her back to touch the back of her head, and came closer for morning snuggles.

                He hadn’t come home. Again. The white comforter next to her hadn’t been ruffled, his pillows were still fluffed. “Thank God for melatonin,” she thought before getting out of bed to get ready for work. She was excited for the day. It was finally getting a little warmer out and she only had to work six hours. She’d be out by four. She didn’t even think about calling him until she grabbed her purse on the way out but decided not to. She didn’t really care where he was. Is that when you know it’s over? When you just don’t care anymore?

                His birthday came and went and she never got him a card. It was sad and she even cried a little because she remembered how she used to buy him cards for no reason. One time he was struggling a little bit, depressed. So she went to Hallmark and got him something silly, really. The card was humorous, a list of ridiculous reasons he was great. “You give me butterflies” was the last reason. She told him she loved him and it made him smile.

                She wanted to still love him but all she could think about all the reasons she couldn’t anymore. It was obvious that things had changed. Every time he touched her she pulled away as if it were a natural reflex, like pulling your hand off a hot burner. She was always the one to end a kiss and he always said “I love you” first.

                It was the first time he had done anything for her birthday in the four years they were together. The rings he bought her were beautiful; she knew he spent hours picking them out. One was white. A statement right, it was cut into an isosceles triangle and in different light it shimmered shades of lavender and light blue. She knew she should feel full, consumed with love, but she knew the only reason he did it was because he thought he was losing her.

                The thing was, he lied all the time. Stupid lies about things not worth lying about.  She always found out the truth.“Did you clean the cat box?” He’d say yes even when he hadn’t, only to be caught a few hours later when she got home. When he was drinking his lies were outright weird. One night he had the audacity to tell her that the reason he didn’t come home until five was because he was sitting on a park bench after the bar closed. Every time she felt insulted that he actually thought she’d believe something so ridiculous.

                “I love you too,” she said, wishing she was strong enough to see the hurt on his face so she didn’t have to say it back.

                “Hey….I have to work early so if you don’t want to come home tonight, you don’t have to,” she said, hoping he’d go out. She needed some distance between them.