When he said it she went limp.
He scooped her up from the slumped pile
she'd become, unsure if it sent her
to the other side, but whether alive
or dead, they would run parallel now
as invites would be only to her,
alone again, searching for a plus one.
She wished he'd said it in the evening
so laying in bed for hours would be normal.
Morning was the worst time to hear it
fearful she would not survive a whole day
without falling at someone's feet
hoping they lift her up into the next
while seared in her memory
is his suitcase, standing upright
waiting patiently at the front door.
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