Oxygen

“For now, I’m just enjoying your company,” he says. “Taking it one day at a time.”

I’m holding my breath, afraid that, any minute now, the oxygen will be sucked from the room. 

His love. His approval. Gone. 

Without him, a vacuum will open, sucking my innards out, tearing every part of me to shreds (which is what I think, deep down, that I deserve). 

He’s back, my beloved ex-fiancé, but still my ex-fiancé, because there is no commitment, no promise. Just “for now” and “one day at a time”.

I smile, still holding that breath, and I try to be Zen. I concentrate on staying in the moment. 

For now, he’s back. For now, there’s oxygen and warmth and I exist. 

For now, he enjoys my company. 

Don’t breathe, I tell myself. Don’t think about the future. Don’t look left at the unworn wedding dress in the open wardrobe. Don’t look down at the negative pregnancy test stick, dropped months ago and now peeping out from under the bed.

Don’t think. Don’t breathe. Just smile and stay in the moment. 

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