"Well, what are you going to do?"

He paused.

"What do you mean? Why should I do anything?"

The fact it was obvious didn't phase him. He knew what he needed to do, but was tired of thinking about it. He was tired of thinking about it and tired of worrying about it until he couldn't sleep anymore. It wasn't even his problem.

"The only reason we're even talking about it is because you brought it up. This has been off my radar. I don't think about it anymore. I can't."

"I wish you wouldn't say that." she leaned back toward the wall, away from him. It wasn't going to be easy this time. Usually it was as simple as asking. She reflected on that a moment to plan her next move. How could she convince him? She really needed this.

"Why not? You wish I wouldn't say what is honestly on my mind? I thought that's what you wanted." his eyes narrowed. "It's getting harder and harder for me to figure out what it is you want." He stood up from the sofa and started pacing behind her. Her actions no longer made sense to him.

"It's hard for me to talk to you like that. Please come back to the sofa."

That was her way of gaining control. He hated it.

"Whatever you need to say, you can say now right where I am."

She wasn't going to get that control from him. She wanted it so badly but was too afraid to say it. In her imagination she had so much more strength. In her imagination, she was holding him by the sides and yelling directly into his face, outlining every little thing he was doing wrong and taped his mouth shut so he couldn't interrupt or squirm away. In reality, that would never happen. That would never happen and it made her sick inside. That sickness was followed by intense guilt.

"I...have to go..." she rose from the sofa. The room was spinning.

"You always have to go when it gets hard." he wasn't going to let it slide this time. "You always have to go when it gets hard and I might think something that you don't have the energy to argue with."

He was right. She knew he was, too. He knew there was no way to block her from leaving. She would do something unpredictable if he tried to stop her. It happened before. All he could do was try to summarize the whole issue before she was out the door, like he did every other time. Maybe this time it would sink in.

"You think I am irrational. I am not irrational. There is nothing to prove that I am. Even if I was irrational, there is no room for you to talk. Maybe you don't agree with the way I handled it, but I handled it and since you weren't there, you don't have the right to argue with me. It's done. You didn't have to deal with it. You should have, but you didn't. I did it for you. You're welcome."

"Go to hell." she waited for the door to partially close before saying it. He wouldn't be able to get it open before she was downstairs.

Later that night, she called him. They talked until morning. Nothing was resolved at that point, but they both expected that. The talk was more of a formality. She came by a few days later and picked up her things. She wouldn't be coming back.

It was for the best. They both knew it.