Affection

I loved her. I loved her so much, that I didn't like letting her out of my sight.

But things changed. She would smile, but it wouldn't reach her eyes. I would look at her, but whenever she saw me she would look away.

It hurt me. If she no longer loved me, why was she still here? I came to the conclusion, she must have still loved me, but had a hard time showing it. I had to make up for her lack of affections.

I started hugging her more. Grabbing into her hand while walking. Even giving more verbal compliments, but she still seemed miserable.

So I thought we could stay in the house more. We watched movies from our bed, ate dinner on the couch. I thought it was more comfortable, and I truly felt even more in love with her. But each day that passed I saw her move less and less, barely smile. It wasn't long before she hardly moved, the only reason I knew she wasn't a doll was the faint pulse I listened to as she slept.

I woke up to no pulse, but a piece of paper. I unfolded and was met with scribbles that I had to squint my eyes to read. It was a short note, she must have used the rest of her time packing her things.

'I had to escape'.