The other side of the bed was cold and empty when I woke up. Martin was gone. He had left, just like the other time. For a moment, I just lay there, still and hollow, thinking about the pain I was feeling in my heart.
This was like a circle and I kept going around it when it came to Martin. I shouldn't have expected anything different.
After a minute or two, I sat up slowly, dragging my fingers through my hair as I swung my legs off the bed. I had to shake off the disappointment I was feeling. Last night happened, and it was different, so this morning.
I dressed in silence, pulling on a simple blouse and jeans, avoiding my reflection in the mirror. Undeniably, I feel down, sad that Martin couldn't say the tiniest goodbye before leaving.
Instead of wallowing in self-pity, I decided t
