"Sh... shit."
The man stood and ran through the open door, not looking back.

I could hear the television in the living room, hear the cartoons I had been watching. Then I could hear you, your voice, telling me what a child I was for watching Tom and Jerry at my age. I wanted to feel you again, but I didn't want you to feel me. I wanted to see you again, but I didn't want you to see me. I wanted to cry, but I didn't want you to cry. I knew you would anyway.

I didn't plead. There was no begging, no remonstration and no running. I was afraid, I'll admit that, but I stood my ground. Not that it would make you proud to know it. You would have wanted me to run, to survive, but that was something I couldn't do. This was fate... I guess.

I'm waiting. I'm just staring at the ceiling lights, the ones that you picked out yourself for our new home, the ones set in the ceiling with the dimmer on them. I always liked the lights on as bright as they could go, but you much preferred the amber lighting of when they were turned down low. I thought you were so pathetically romantic when you said it was mysterious, a mood setter. I'd blushed in embarrassment when you'd told me I looked beautiful in its glow. I hated it when you complimented me like that. You're beautiful, cute, pretty, but right now I just wanted you to whisper those things in my ear. I wanted you to call me 'darling' and 'honey' and all those other sappy names that I'd frowned at before. Why weren't you here? But I knew that. You were taking a walk as usual, enjoying the crisp air and the dark atmosphere. You always had that aura about you. The night was part of you. Shadows ran through your blood. You came to me to chase them away. You came to me because I had the 'sunshine in my soul'.

But now my sunshine is soaking my clothes, choking me, running out onto my hands. With each breath the blade of the knife would cut a little farther. With each breathe the blood, your light, would bubble up from my stomach and drip down my side. With each breath I drifted a little farther from you. Even if it's selfish, I want you to come home before the sunset. I want to say goodbye. The sun is almost gone now. You're still not here.

"I love you," I whisper, but you don't hear it. I don't want you to find me. I don't want you to feel that pain of loosing someone. We didn't do anything wrong. It wasn't wrong and I wish I could tell you that, but I can't. Please forgive me for leaving you, but I'm afraid I really have no control in this matter. Somehow I'll give you the courage to try again.