What Happens When I Try to Go on Vacation Without Him?

“I’ll only be gone 3 days, 4 tops.” The argument had begun when I told him about the vacation I had planned for the following weekend with some friends. They had rented a house on a river and had asked…no, insisted….that I come along. My friends were starting to feel neglected. If I didn’t spend some time with them soon they would hunt me down and drag me away. At least, that’s what my friend Lilly had threatened, and I believed her.

I really didn’t understand why he was having a conniption about me going away. I had enjoyed the few weeks we’d spent together, more than enjoyed actually, but we couldn’t remain isolated forever.

“I know, baby. It’s just that I’ve gotten so used to being with you.”

This was a familiar refrain that, combined with the lost puppy dog eyes he had given me, was almost enough to weaken my conviction. I too had become used to the daily routines we had formed: waking up in each other’s arms, coffee on the balcony as we shared stories of our past, reading companionably next to his pool, walks along the beach at sunset hand in hand, evenings spent lost in exploring each other. It had been more than I’d ever dreamed of in a relationship and part of me understood not wanting to break the spell.

He pampered me in a way no one ever had before. I was uncomfortable with it in the beginning but who couldn’t learn to love being taken care of so unconditionally, especially on the days I wasn’t feeling my best. Over the short time I’d stayed with him, there had been several times I couldn’t even manage to get out of bed on my own. I had been battling some kind of virus, and he had been there doting on me, helping me get better.

He had been so kind, so caring. How could I fault him for wanting to spend time together? Lost in my own thoughts I almost didn’t hear him when he suggested, “I know you want to see your friends. What if I come with you?”

That seemed like a reasonable compromise. I remember thinking it could be fun to have him along and that it would be great for my friends to meet him. I was utterly convinced I’d found the man of my dreams, why wouldn’t I bring him into my world?

With that settled he pulled me into an embrace, kissing me with an intensity that showed clearly how much this concession meant to him. He poured every ounce of love into that one kiss, confirming unequivocally that we had found the perfect solution. As I relaxed into him he lifted me onto the gleaming white counter without breaking our connection. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, hugging him tightly with my entire body.

He leaned back, looking me squarely in the eye. “Don’t ever leave me,” he pleaded. And in that moment I wanted to erase every hurt he had ever felt, every doubt he had ever encountered.

“I won’t,” I promised.

This post is in response to the daily writing prompt Conniption and is part of something longer I am working on.

This post is a part of the story about the ex and at the moment stands on its own somewhere between A Frightening War Is Raging Within Me and Why Do I Hesitate When I Know I Should Escape?

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