September, and I make a difficult decision. My countdown starts now where it all ended once before.
I: In my robe, hair messy and an awful winebreath. Black coffee, untouched. Visible bones, a tattoo on my wrist. Wet eyes, not from crying but from confusion. One thousand questions, not a single word suitable for the situation. Quiet.
He: Fully dressed, all in black. Coffee cup, almost empty. Pancakes and gin. Smoking. Humming. Trying to meet my eyes. Sitting on all the answers. Not giving me a single one.
We: Slept like new born babies. Hand in hand. Shared a dream, shared a bed.