Nine days.

Nine days have went by without hearing a single word from Harry. I didn't think it was possible for me to go a single day without speaking to him, let alone nine. It feels like one hundred honestly but each second hurts less than the prior. It hasn't been easy, not even close to that. Ken made a call to Mr. Vance asking for me to take off until Monday, meaning I would only miss one day anyway. I would have toughed it out, tried my hardest to get through the day without cracking.

I know I am the one who left, the one who walked away but it kills me that he hasn't even tried. I have always given more in the relationship and this was his chance to show me how he truly feels. I guess in a way he is, it's just the opposite of what I had thought and desperately wanted. Needed.

I know that Harry loves me, I do. However, I also know that if he loves me as much as I thought he does he would have made it a point to show me by now. He said he wasn't going to let this go, but he did. He let it go, and he let me go. The part that scares me the most is that the first week I was walking around completely lost. I was lost without Harry. Lost without his witty comments. Lost without his crude remarks. Lost without his assurance and his confidence. Lost without the way he would sometimes draw circles on my hand while holding it between his, the way he would kiss me for no reason and smile at me when he thought I wasn't looking. I don't want to be lost without him, I want to be strong. I want my days and nights to be just the same whether I am alone or not. I am beginning to suspect I may always be alone, as dramatic as the thought seems, I wasn't happy with Noah yet Harry and I didn't work. Maybe I am like my mother in that way, I am better off alone.

I didn't want to be over this way, so cut and dry. I wanted to talk about everything, I wanted him to answer my calls so we could come to some sort of mutual agreement. I just needed space, I needed a break from him to show him that I am not his door mat and that I won't put up with him treating me this way and lying to me repeatedly. It backfired on me because he obviously doesn't care as much as I thought he did. Maybe this was his plan all along.

During the first day I did expect a call, text, or hell I really expected Harry to come bursting through the door screaming at the top of his lungs and causing a scene while we were sitting in the dining room in silence, no one quite sure what to say to me. When that didn't happen, I lost it. Not crying in the corner, feeling sorry for myself lost it. I mean I lost myself. Every second was lived in anticipation of Harry coming back to grovel for my forgiveness. I almost gave in that day, I almost went back to the apartment. I was ready to tell him to hell with marriage, I don't care if he lies to me every day and doesn't respect me, as long as he never leaves me. Thankfully, I snapped out of that and had some respect for myself.

Day three was the worst. Day three was when the realization really began to hit me. Day three was when I finally spoke after three days of near silence, only muttering a simple yes or no to Liam or Karen during the previous days. The only sounds that actually came out were a strangled sob and choppy explanation through tears of why my life will be better, easier, without him that even I didn't believe. Day three was when I finally looked in the mirror at my dirty and bruised face, my eyes swollen to the point of barely opening. Day three was when I fell to the floor finally praying to God to make the pain disappear. No one can handle this pain, I told him. Not even me. Day three I called him, I couldn't help myself. I told myself that if he answers we will work it out and both come to a compromise, apologizing profusely and promising to never leave one another again. Instead, I got his voice mail after two rings, proving that he ignored the call.

Day four, I slipped and called him again. This time he had the courtesy to let it ring to voice mail instead of pressing ignore. Day four was when I realized how much more I actually care for him than he does me. Day four was when I spent the entire day in bed reliving the few times he actually told me how he felt about me. I began to realize that most of our relationship and how I portrayed his feelings for me in my mind, was just that, in my mind. I began to realize that while I was thinking we could do this, we could make this work forever, he wasn't thinking about me at all.

After 2Read this story for FREE!