It was my husband. Because we had been fighting. I lost control after he ignored my plea to let me write in peace. I curled up in a fetal position and smoked the pack of cigs he left behind, not believing he had really gone this time. People fight in marriages.
People fight in relationships.
Some are worse than others. Yet he had always managed to return after driving around the block once. He'd storm in, tear glistening green eyes hopeful, me with arms outstretched and waiting, pleading for forgiveness. He was my life, My dreams, and everything I thought I ever wanted. Painful and crystal clear.