For a while now I've suspected my lover of cheating on me. It shows in his eyes as he gazes sadly at me. It's in his touch as he holds me. Perhaps he doesn't hear me weep at night or he chooses to ignore the heart wrenching sound, but I can only weep so long for a person before my feelings turn bitter. I could never hate him though, I love him, my soul.

I stand in the window gazing out at the dark night, wrapped in the blanket he had brought me. The old multicolored blanket cost only ten dollars but it kept me warmer and more comfortable than any comforter I've ever felt. I press my hand against the cold glass, desperately seeking his figure in the darkness and I cry again when there is nothing to be found but cold night.

I know where he is, where he goes two or three times a week, I never thought I'd have to share. I want him to be happy and I know he is with me and the other person, but I am not. I have to concede that I am unable to offer the other half of my soul what he needs. So I have to let him go. I'll cry harder, I can even feel my heart breaking just at the thought, but it has to be done.

I move from the window and sit at the kitchen table with a piece of paper in my hands, grasping it so tightly at the edges that it tears. I sat the paper down and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself enough to write. I know I'm being a coward by not facing him face to face but that is just to hard for me to do. But I will see him again, not as a lover but as a friend, I hope.

I pick my pen up and start to write, unsteady hands making the print almost illegible but I know he can read anything I write. My tears decorate the page as I write about past times, good and bad. This way I can get all of my feelings out without interruptions. I write about how much I love him and how much I know he loves me. That I know how he feels about the other person in his life, I don't blame him, I love him to but not as a lover. I write about how the best thing to do is end it here before either of our hearts become involved any deeper. I tell him how much our break up hurts me but I will heal with time. Something's just weren't meant to be.

When I'm done I fold the letter up and put it into an envelope, propping it up on the kitchen table so it will be the first thing he sees when he enters the kitchen. Leaving everything there I make my way into the bedroom and pack my belongings, I'll stay in a hotel until I can get myself another place to stay.

Before leaving I pick up the envelope and turn it over in my hands a few times before putting it down and signing the front of it.

"Goodbye Andrew..."

Placing my house keys beside the envelope, I pick up my bags and leave, locking the door behind me.

While setting up at the hotel, I took a few personal days from my job. I wouldn't go back until I could get myself together. People depend of me and I can't help then in the state that I am in. My cell phone rings in my pocket and I consider not answering it for a few moment but then again it could be an emergency. "Hello?"

"Shelby? It's Andrew, please, we need to talk..."