The Dreaded Question.

I hoped that this day would never come. It was like awaiting the inevitable. The day where the blissful calm would be shattered and be replaced by the turmoil of mistrust and suspicion and anger. The day you would ask me the dreaded question. 

In fact, this time no questions were asked. I was simply told. I was slightly taken aback and appalled. I thought it was over. I thought we were through with it. I thought you had promised me. 

My mind whirled. Considered what I would do, what I would have to do if you went. The thoughts didn't please me. They made me sick. I couldn't. But if you had went ahead, then I would have to. I've dropped too many warning signs. I've voiced my concerns. I don't know what else to do. 

It wouldn't be pretty. I'm sure I'll be in pain for quite a while. But I'll still do it anyway. 

No excuses, no pleas, no threats. My heart is wrapped in your love, but my brain still holds its vigil over my paths. No more.