Moments of disillusion
We fell asleep at sometime during the pre-dawn hours; he wasn't as affectionate as before, opting to sleep on his back, with distance between us. I think we both knew then, it was a mistake to let that happen. He had a new life and so did I—but it didn't change the feelings that lingered and forced us here today.
Fuck.
When I awoke, the spot next to me was empty. His clothes were no where to be seen, after being discarded carelessly in the night. A pang of rejection shot through me, realizing he had bailed. Not that I could blame him, what happened was fun, but scary nonetheless. He had a real life worth living and I couldn't intervene in that.
I showered and dressed, my heart still leaking sorrow. I was on autopilot. Not that this was the first or probably the last time someone would sneak out after sex, it was unexpected. Why I let myself have any expectations? Not sure, but they occurred naturally.
