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The Present 1

The Present 1

John is sleepng quietly next to me, looking so much more relaxed. Normally his face doesn't appear as peacful; he spends most of his time grumbling about something or other.

I feel like crying as I watch him sleep. He loves me, and I love him, but it can't be. Still he and I cling to the shred of hope that one day we can be together. There is just one problem: his wife and son. They are the only thing that keeps us apart. And even then, we have been sneaking behind her back. Cynthia is such a wonderful woman; so honest and open, I feel terrible doing this.

A deep pain in my heart forces me to get up and dress for the day. Maybe he'll understand my reasons, though I doubt it. He's been through so many women it would be almost impossible to understand my reasoning.

Dear John,

I'm going back to America. I won't be at the same place I was; I know you'd find me and convince me that you need me. I have come to realize that you don't need me as much as you think, and we can't live like this. So it's either Cyn or me. You know what the real answer should be, but I'm sure you'll pick the answer that suits you best.
I'm sorry I have to go. I really do love you, and I'm crying now even as I write this.
Good-bye John, I love you.

Forever yours but far away,

Slamming down the pen, and covering my mouth to keep the sound of my crying from reaching John's ears, I run out of the room, not even bothering to gather my belongings. I can't bear to stay here any longer.