She Took Everything

There's only one She in my life. My mother was never She, she was "just" my mother. I've dated other girls; I've had one-night stands and partied until I dropped... and woke up next to someone I didn't remember going to bed with (I say "bed" because "going to floor" doesn't make as much sense, but you get the picture). 

She was the one who put a stop to that. I didn't change for her; I was changing on a daily basis for everyone else. With She, I was who I really was, and She seemed to like that. I know I did. It was so much easier, being me, and not having to worry about everything I said or did in front of her. 

She even farted first. You would not believe the sound that could come out of this woman. That aside, she belonged on a catwalk in Paris, but put a burrito in her and She put truckers to shame. I won't get into the other aspects of it because it'll make me cry, and I don't like doing that. I don't feel comfortable doing that.

I did, around She.

We were together for four years. Today, I woke up to a message from She. Now, things had gone downhill a little bit; I know I'm not giving a lot of information here. Suffice to say I lost track of a lot of little things, and let myself get preoccupied with my work. Yes, I'd landed my dream job, in part thanks to the confidence and self-assurance that She helped bring out in me, but I was getting by before. I made enough that we could both get by, and She worked to, because she hated sitting still. We did well. We didn't NEED more. I wanted to improve our life together a bit, but I got too far into it, into the suit-and-tie and the 9-5 and the overtime and the work brought home and the "sorry gorgeous, I can't go out tonight; I can't go look at the sunrise with you; I can't do this/this/this/that, I need to get up early for a conference call."

I work at home, albeit on a schedule, and I still managed to be not-around. The other day, I yelled at her for the first time... like she was a child, or a dog. For "interrupting" something that was just me. I wasn't on a call or anything. I wasn't even "on the clock." 

She mumbled an apology, and left the room, and I instantly felt a pang of "oh shit" that I quashed and ignored. 

Today, I woke up alone, to a handwritten note. I can't, fucking, read it. I haven't, read it, yet, but her things... her clothes are gone. Just her clothes, and her immediate things like... wallet, keys, cellphone. Minus the key to our apartment. It's sitting on her fucking nightstand. 

She left everything. She left the stuff we'd bought. She left me the apartment. I've been able to read that much in between typing the last sentence and this, but it makes perfect sense with who She is. When She moves on, She moves on. I'd heard stories from her about having to do this before, and being so thankful that she finally felt like it wouldn't be necessary again. 

She left it all. She took everything. She took everything that mattered. She took herself. 

I'm reading more of the note now. She wants to come back and talk, but She's said that she feels very uncertain... God, I hope, I hope. She doesn't know if she can trust me, but I feel like I might be getting a second chance. I don't know what to do, but I think -- when she walks in -- I'm going to break the damn computer I bought specifically for my job, then ask her where she wants to grab some food before we head down to the beach. Not sure. I think that might be it. 

I can't let her go. Not like this. I need to fix this.

User Comments

Good luck. I've been there; I hope you're able to set things straight. Everyone deserves a second chance to make up for the mistakes that we're all inclined to make, now and then; it sounds like she's dealt with a lot in the past, but I hope things work out for both of you.


I don't want to discourage you; I hope for the best. It doesn't sound, from what you shared, like there was a lot that went wrong. It does sound like she's the one who helped you to learn to appreciate yourself, a little bit. I know what that's like, and just want to say that (whatever happens) you need to hold on to that.