This is your favorite time of day. A little before 7. Just before his alarm goes off. You wake up and lean on your elbow and you watch him sleeping, and you imagine him opening his eyes and you’re not there.
You imagine your stuff’s in a bag that you packed in the middle of the night that you’re wheeling to an airport or a train station or a rental car place and the only thing he’ll have left of you is the note.
You wrote the note. You’ve written numerous drafts. Two summers ago it was how you killed time during insomnia. You’d open up the word file and revise your goodbye note to your boyfriend until you felt sleepy enough to go in and curl up next to him again. You haven’t rewritten it in a while. It’s pretty much perfect, as far as you can remember. Though if you really were ever going to use it you might do a quick revision to update some of the references.
Anyway, that’s what you imagine he’d find. Just a note. Then he’d call your cell and you wouldn’t answer for at least a few days, if ever. Just before 7 when his eyes haven’t opened yet, the possibility is still there. You could still do what needs to be done to make it so all he opens his eyes to is a note from you.
But not today.
In a few minutes his alarm’s going to go off and he’s going to open his eyes and find you staring at him, just like he has so many mornings before.
“What are you looking at?” he’ll ask.
“A sleepyhead,” you’ll say.
Then you’ll both get up and start another day together.
Happy Stare At Him Sleeping While Thinking About Leaving Day!
