Just let me slip out the front door. Let us stop these foolish cravings. Pish and posh and love stories. Can’t we know better? Please, don’t hide my things beneath the covers. Don’t leave me scattered. Please, I promise you I will be silent. I promise you you won’t hear a thing. I promise you I will not wake you. Not even for a second. I will kindly pack my belongings in a small, aching tote and I will disappear. I will be gone, gently. But I promise you I will be silent. I promise you won’t hear a thing. I promise you I will not wake you. Not even for a second.

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