Unfair Goodbyes

I left with a horrible feeling in my gut and an even worst feeling in my heart.  It's like I'm not allowed to feel angry or hurt and act on it.  I'm not allowed to hold a grudge even for a second.  I'm not allowed to leave without the thought of our last words haunting me.  The wife of a cop knows the dangers of the "job".  The wife of this cop will always say goodbye with all of her heart... even when it hurts. 

Hubby:  Are you mad?

Me:  No.

Hubby:  Are you sure?

Me:  Yes.

...turned into one of those extremely rare nights when being in the same room is too much to handle.  As he sat and watched television I sat at the computer.  I don't know what it was but something came over me.  I  couldn't breathe.  I needed to collect my thoughts.  I grabbed my keys and walked snuck out without saying goodbye.

As soon as I started the engine my phone rang.  Call denied.

Not saying goodbye is yet another rare moment in our every day-to-day.  In our 6 years together that's only happened two or three times.  Usually during some major blowout but this wasn't a blowout.  It was worse.  My heart hurt.  It was nothing major.  It was unexpected and unintentional but enough to keep me driving into the late hours of the night.  The music played louder than my thoughts.        

Hubby:  Are you mad?

Me:  No.

Hubby:  Are you sure?

Me:  Yes.

...turned into a night of tossing and turning.  As the snoring got louder so did my thoughts.  How can you sleep knowing how upset I am?!?  I must have gotten 1 or 2 broken-up hours of sleep.  I could tell he tossed and turned himself.  There were moments when we both laid there knowing the other was awake and said nothing.  The sun came up and it was about time for the alarm clocks to start going off.  I got up to get ready for work.  He got up and jumped in the shower.  Still no words had been exchanged.  Nothing about this felt right. 

We always start the day with hugs and kisses.  He usually gets up a little earlier than I.  I slowly come to life as I snooze into a groggy state of I-don't-want-to-go-to-work-I-hate-my-job.  I drag myself over to him, hang my arms around him, and cram as many kisses into that thirty second embrace that he can handle without being smothered.

Today was different.  I knew my first words to him would be forced.  I went to him, still in the shower, and knocked before opening the shower door.

Me: I'm not mad.

Hubby:  Will you give me a kiss?

I stood there.  Empty eyes.  I leaned in and kissed his wet lips being careful not to wet my clothes. 

Me:  I have to go.  I'm not mad.  It's just... my heart's a little broken.

Hubby: I thought you weren't mad?

Me:  I'm not mad, I'm just a little broken.

Hubby:  I thought... I'm sorry.

It seemed there was more he wanted to say, knowing that he hurt me, but I felt tears blurring my vision as they ran down my cheeks.  I closed the door but not without giving him one more kiss. 

With breakfast and lunch on the counter I locked the doors behind me hoping he would remember that I love him no matter what.  Sometimes I joke and tell him, "I love you... always... even when I want to hit you".