Prompt Ramblings - 9. Prompt 270 - First Line

“Because, I’m leaving you.”

Those were the words I should have said as Dan looked up and asked why I just stood from the table at our dinner at Armechi's. We had already finished the appetizer, of which I ate very little, and were waiting for the entrees to arrive.

“I just needed to go to the Men's,” I said. Coward.

I casually strolled to the back corner of the restaurant and hid myself away in the restroom. I cursed myself in the mirror and wondered how I'd let this get so far, how I let this go on so long.

Dan and I met five years ago at a local bar, each of us with a few martinis under our belts. Smiling and well dressed, he was so handsome and daring. Thank god we took a taxi back to his house afterwards. My neighbors would have complained all night about how loud the sex was.

The next day he whisked me off to a expensive brunch and planned our trip to Cancun. It all happened so fast and he seduced me with his money and grand lifestyle. Months later, he had me moving in and I couldn't be happier.

It didn't take long to see what a mistake that was.

Dan was a good person, but he was shallow. A trust fund baby, he'd never really worked for a living and his self-centered world became all too apparent once the novelty or our relationship wore thin. A few months into us living together and I realized I couldn't love him. I'd allowed everything to happen at a care-free rate in spite of my better judgement.

Having walked away from my apartment and my job at his insistence, I found myself in a position I hadn't anticipated. I had nowhere to go. How stupid could I be?

It took some time to muster my nerve and break up with Dan. The very day I planned it, he received a call from his doctor's office with a series of test results I hadn't known about.

Cancer.

How could I walk away as Dan broke down into tears at my feet? How could I be the unfeeling bastard that left my partner on the night of a life or death diagnosis? It was simple, I couldn't.

I held his hand through the night and through the doctor's visits he insisted on me being present for. I cleaned up after him through the chemo and shaved his head when his hair fell out in sad clumps. I hated every moment of it. I felt like a prisoner, but I couldn't walk away. He needed someone and there was simply no one else.

Now here we were four years later, in remission, healthy and distant strangers together. We opened our relationship to other people because I think we're too bored to sleep with each other any more. How sad our lives have become. How pathetic am I that I couldn't find the strength to leave when the crisis was over? Now I've played along and I think we're both miserable because of it.

I splashed water on my face before taking a deep breath and heading back to the table. Dan was nowhere to be found. My entree was in place at my seat, but Dan's was empty. The waiter appeared and handed me an envelope addressed to me, an uncomfortable look on his face. Inside was a letter on Dan's stationery, letters written in blue ink on the page.

Dear Sam,

We've been broken for a long time. Probably before the cancer hit if I take the time to think about it. I can't thank you enough for being there for me, but it's obvious that neither one of us loves each other anymore. If we ever did. I knew we weren't meant for each other after I went into remission. But how could I break up after all you did to get me through my illness? We kept going through the motions because I think it's what we thought we were supposed to do.

I'm bringing this to an end so you don't have to. I know how much you hate confrontation and I'd rather do this now so we don't learn to hate each other. I can see how close we are to that.

I can't leave you with nothing, so I've given your bank account a healthy stipend to get you back on your feet. I'm taking a flight out of the country tonight to make this easier for both of us. Take your time finding a new place. There's no hurry.

I'm not sorry we met but I'm sorry we've made each other so sad.

Take care of yourself,

Dan